


Stronger in Contrast

by Bandgeek18



Series: Shadows and Arrows [4]
Category: Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Family Fluff, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Kidnapping, One Shot Collection, Past Character Death, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sickfic, Tags May Change, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-23
Updated: 2020-01-01
Packaged: 2020-05-18 08:49:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 25,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19331179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bandgeek18/pseuds/Bandgeek18
Summary: A quick look at some moments in Roy's life between Shadow of an Arrow and Beyond the Shadow.





	1. Influenza

**Author's Note:**

> So the main reason for this collection is I had a bunch of ideas for scenarios and situations I wanted to write about in this universe but wasn't able to fit them into the main stories. 
> 
> These stories take place in the 2 and a half (ish) years between Shadow of an Arrow and Beyond the Shadow. Right now I have 6 one-shots planned, but if I think of any more ideas before it's finished posting, then I'll add them on. 
> 
> Read on and enjoy!

“Bruce! I think Roy died!” 

Bruce rolled his eyes a little bit as he finished scooping the half-burnt eggs from the pan onto the three plates in front of him. ‘Why do 11-year-olds have to be so dramatic?’ Or maybe it was just his 11-year-old. Regardless, he quickly moved the pan to a burner that wasn’t hot and carefully picked up the three plates. When he walked into the dining room he frowned. Roy was sitting at the table with his head in his arms and Dick was periodically poking him with a fork. “Dick, stop that.”

“I told you, he died!”

“He’s not dead.” Bruce set the plates on the table and slid one of them to his younger ward. “He probably just stayed up past his bedtime is all.” Very gently, Bruce slid a plate in front of the teen. “Roy, time to wake up and eat.” 

“Mmmmm…” Roy moaned. 

“Come on, Roy.” Bruce reached out for Roy’s arm and frowned. ‘Why is his skin so warm?’ Dreading the answer, he carefully lifted Roy’s head enough to put his hand on the teen’s forehead. “Shit! Roy, you’re burning up!”

“Sorry…” Roy breathed.

“Language,” Dick quipped from his seat. 

“You eat your breakfast,” Bruce told him. He sat in the next to Roy and lifted his head again. It scared him how unfocused and tried Roy’s gaze was. “Your whole face is hot. Do you feel sick?”

“Feel….achy…” Roy mumbled. “And….tired….”

“Ok. Dick, eat your breakfast, then finish getting ready for school. I’m taking Roy back up to bed.” 

“Is he ok?” Dick asked, all trace of amusement now replaced with genuine concern. 

“He’s probably just got a stomach bug. I’m sure it’ll pass in a day.” Very carefully, Bruce put his hands on Roy’s arms and helped him stand. Roy stumbled a little but Bruce caught him and led him toward the stairs. 

“I’m sorry, Bruce…” Roy mumbled. 

“It’s ok. You’re just not feeling good. You just need some rest.” Going up the stairs took three times as long as normal due to how slow Roy moved. By the time they reached his bedroom, Roy was so tired he was practically leaning on Bruce. “We’re all most there.” When they got to Roy’s room, Bruce laid him down on the bed, then covered him up “I have to take Dick to school, but I’ll be back soon, ok?”

“Mhm…” Roy closed his eyes and only took a few seconds to fall asleep. 

‘Ok. I’ll just drop Dick off at school, then come right home,’ Bruce thought as he left quietly. ‘Roy should be fine until then. He’ll only be alone for 20 minutes.’

— — 

When Bruce got home, he checked on Roy, who was still asleep. Nodding to himself, Bruce went down to his study to get some work done. ‘I don’t need Alfred,’ he thought. ‘I can handle this.’ Which was good, since his butler wasn’t due back from his yearly trip of visiting his family for another six days. For the most part, the day was quiet. Roy slept through the morning with no problem. Bruce managed to find some leftover chicken noodle soup from when Dick had been cold ridden a week prior and heated some up for Roy. 

‘Maybe that’s what he has,’ Bruce thought as he carefully brought the warm soup up to Roy’s room. ‘Maybe it’s just a cold. I don’t think Dick’s cold caused a fever this high though.’ Which was…? ‘I should probably take his temperature. I think there’s a first aid kit in his bathroom. Might be a thermometer in there.’ He knocks gently on the door before entering. The lights were all off and Roy was laying in his bed, but he’d kicked the blankets off. “Roy? You awake?’

“Yeah…” Roy replied hoarsely. 

“Throat sore?” 

“Mhm.”

“If Alfred were here he’d know the exact cup of tea to make you that would cure it. I think the best I could offer is a cough drop later if you want.”

“Thanks.” Roy sat up and leaned against his headboard as Bruce put the bowl in his lap. 

“I’m going to find a thermometer. Eat slowly, ok?”

“Ok. Can I have a glass of water?”

“Sure.” Bruce grabbed the empty cup from the bedside table and refilled it in the bathroom (where he didn’t find a thermometer) before returning the glass and looking for the thermometer. He looked in Dick’s bathroom next, since the boy was the last person in the Manor to be sick. When that turned up nothing, he checked his own. Sure enough, he found one. ‘Ok, now I just have to take his temperature and-‘ Bruce’s thoughts were cut off by the sounds of vomiting the closer he got to Roy’s room. ‘Oh no.’ He rushed in and found Roy throwing up in the bathroom. Wincing at how the teen whimpered wretchedly between heaves, Bruce knelt down and rubbed his back. “It’s ok, Roy. It’s ok. Just relax. It’s ok.” It felt like far too long before the teen’s stomach stopped torturing him and he was able to sit back. Bruce’s brow furrowed in concern at how Roy look even paler than he had 15 minutes ago and he seemed to be sweating. “Are you ok?”

“Mhm.” 

“Come on.” Bruce flushed the toilet, then helped Roy stand up. He led the teen back to his bed and made him lay down. As he did, he spotted the bowl of soup, which looked like it’d barely been touched. “Drink some water.” Bruce held out the cup, but Roy shook his head. 

“My stomach feels too…weird.”

“Ok, well…try to drink something in a bit when it settles. Ok?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Open up.” Roy opened his mouth and Bruce slipped the thermometer under his tongue. “Ok, keep that in there for a while, got it?” Roy nodded. Very awkwardly, Bruce didn’t know how long he was supposed to keep the thermometer under Roy’s tongue, so he left in the miserable teen’s mouth for ten minutes. When he took it out he looked at the little screen. ‘102.5 degrees.’ That probably wasn’t good, but it wasn’t critical, or was it? “Ok just, stay in bed and rest.” 

“Ok.” 

Bruce looked at the soup but decided to keep it in the room in case Roy decided he was hungry later. He glanced at the teen again, who seemed to be drifting between awake and asleep. “I don’t think I’ll need to stay here with him,’ Bruce thought. ‘He’s just going to sleep anyways.’ He snuck out of the room and left the door open a crack. 

Unfortunately, though, Roy didn’t go to sleep. He tossed and turned as the heat burned through his body. He moaned, then kicked the blankets off again and curled himself up into a ball. A deep aching feeling persisted through his legs and torso. Every breath felt like it had to force its way into his lungs. ’Can’t sleep,’ he thought as he moaned miserably. Which felt like a really unfair paradox. Part of Roy wanted to read since he couldn’t sleep, but he also didn’t have the energy to get up or actually read. So instead, he grabbed the remote off the bedside table and turned the tv on. The sudden loud noise of the television caused him to jump and he quickly muted it. It took him roughly 15 minutes to be able to lower the volume enough so that he could handle it and put not eh subtitles. He found a Harry Potter movie, then laid back down. Everything was a little confusing because he kept drifting off, but at least the movie was giving him something to focus on. 

— — 

Everything was quiet for the rest of the afternoon. Bruce worked his study for the whole afternoon, but he did keep one of the security camera's feeds pulled up on his computer. It showed the hall outside the bedrooms, so he could keep an eye on Roy if the teen tried to leave his room. Fortunately, it seemed like Roy was probably sleeping the whole afternoon because there wasn’t a peep from him. By the time it was time to pick Dick up at school, Bruce was feeling hopeful that Roy would feel well enough to eat dinner. However, when he actually went up to Roy’s room, it was clear that he wasn’t feeling better at all. When Bruce put his hand on the teen’s face, it was burning so much that his cheeks were red. A thin layer of stuck sweat seemed to be lining to Roy’s face and neck. “Roy,” Bruce said softly as he put his hand on Roy’s forehead, which was also hot. ‘Should I take his temperature again?’ Probably a good idea. “Roy? Wake up.”

“Hmm…” Roy moaned. His eyes cracked open and he liked his lips. “Bruce…?”

“Yeah. You’re really warm. Have you been drinking water?”

Roy started nodding, then shook his head. “Got…sick…when I drink…”

“Can you try to drink some? You’re probably dehydrated.”

“Uh-huh…” Bruce helped Roy sit up and brought the cup of water to his lips. The teen took a few tiny sips before pushed at Bruce’s hand weakly. 

“Ok.” Once he had Roy laying down again Bruce covered him with one thin blanket. ‘I don’t want him to overheat.’ He rubbed Roy’s back a little bit. “I have to go pick Dick up at school. Don’t try to get up and I’ll be back soon. When I get back I’ll take your temperature again. Ok?” 

“Uh-huh…”

“Good. Just rest.” 

Roy blinked and Bruce was gone. His brain couldn’t quite find enough energy to care though. For a while, the miserable teen just laid in bed and stared up at the ceiling. Every inhale felt like it was stabbing the inside of his lungs. Roy’s whole chest felt like it was crushing his lungs when he started coughing and hacking. He buried his face in his pillow tilt he coughing finally subsided and he moved his head to the side. ‘Throat hurts…’ Roy thought. ‘Maybe….water?’ He reached out for his glass, but his weak fingers accidentally knocked it off instead. “Ugh….” Roy suffered through another coughing fit, then threw the blankets back. Another coughing fit, then he swung his legs off the bed. He winced at the deep ache in the muscles as they touched the ground. Swallowing, Roy pushed himself to his feet, only to fall back onto his bed as his legs nearly gave out. ‘Want water…’ he thought determinedly. Swallowing, then nodding, he pushed away from the bed again and this time managed to stay on his feet.

When he reached down to pick up the glass, he nearly pitched forward onto his face, but he managed to stay on his feet. ‘Ok…ok….’ Roy started walking to the bathroom, but then had to stop when another coughing fit hit him. He had to grab on to the footboard with one hand as he coughed up a lung into his other elbow. When it finally finished he kept shuffling to the bathroom. It wasn’t a far distance to travel, but it felt like miles and miles. By the time he reached the doorway, he had to lean on it for support. ‘Almost…’ Roy pushed away and his vision suddenly blacked out and he was vaguely aware of his legs giving out underneath him. 

Meanwhile, Dick was passing Roy’s room, having just gotten home from school, and stopped when he heard a loud crash from the teen’s room. “That didn’t sound good,” Dick muttered as he dropped his backpack, then ran into the bedroom. Roy wasn’t in the bed, but a split-second survey showed the bathroom door was open. Dick ran over to it and gasped. Roy was passed out on the bathroom floor with blood under one of his hands. “Bruce!” he shouted. “Bruce, help! Bruce!” The closer Dick got to the bathroom, he could see that Roy was breathing. When he knelt down beside the teen, Dick put a shaky hand to his neck, trying to find his pulse. “Bruce! Bruce-“

“Dick?!” Bruce called back. He ran into Roy’s bedroom and his eyes found the two boys within a second. “Roy!” He dashed into the bathroom and Dick backed up as Bruce knelt down. “What happened?!”

“I don’t know! I was walking by and I heard a crash! So I came in and he was just…here!”

Bruce checked Roy’s pulse, which felt a little slow to him. His frown deepened and he leaned over Roy to tap his face gently. “Roy? Roy, wake up.” A little bit of tension left Bruce’s body when Roy moaned in response. ‘Ok. Ok.’ First things first, get Roy back to bed. As gently as possible, Bruce picked Roy up and carried him back to his bed. ‘You’re getting heavy, kid,’ Bruce thought. When he set the teen down, he covered him with a light blanket, then pulled out his phone. Dick scrambled onto the bed and felt Roy’s forehead, then darted back into the bathroom. Bruce frowned after him but didn’t get a chance to ask, because the person on the other line answered.

“Hello?” 

“Leslie, it’s Bruce.”

“What can I do for you, Bruce?”

“I need you to come to Manor as soon as you can. Roy’s really sick. He’s burning up and he just passed out.”

“I’ll be there in half an hour.”

“Thank you, Leslie.” Bruce hung up as Dick came back. The boy had a very damp washcloth in his hands. He climbed onto the bed, then folded the washcloth up and put it on Roy’s forehead. 

“What’s wrong with Roy?” Dick asked, clearly concerned. 

“He’s just sick. When Leslie gets here she’ll be able to tell us what he has and we’ll give him some medicine.”

“So he’ll be ok?”

“I’m sure.” At least Bruce hoped so. Whatever it was Roy had, he silently prayed it was something they could treat on their own. It wasn’t as if they could take him to a hospital. ‘I can also treat him downstairs and worse come to worse I could take him to the Watchtower.’ Roy’s moaning caught Bruce’s attention and he saw Dick wing the washcloth on the teen’s face. “Dick, don’t do that, I don’t think he likes it.”

“He likes it. See?” Dick pulled the washcloth away and Roy frowned in his semi-conscious state. He moved his head in Dick’s direction as if searching for the missing contact. “I told you.”

“Ok, ok. Just be gentle.”

“I will.” 

Bruce sat by Roy’s bed, his face creased with worry, and watched the teen sleep. Every breath Roy took seemed to take enormous energy on his part, but it was reassuring to Bruce because breathing meant alive. He didn’t bother trying to tell Dick to go do his homework because he knew the boy wasn’t going to listen and he didn’t have the energy to fight with him on it at the moment. Occasionally, Bruce would reach out to out his hand on Roy’s face or collar bone to see how warm it was. It was always really warm; as the red color in his cheeks suggested. When Leslie called to say that she’d arrived and was outside the Manor door, a small bit of tension in Bruce’s chest eased. Leslie was a good doctor and would help Roy. “I’ll be right back, Dick. Watch him.”

“Ok.” Dick remained in the same place he had been for the last half an hour, kneeling beside Roy on his bed. He touched the washcloth he’d put on the teen’s forehead and discovered it was no longer cold and not as wet. “Don’t move, Roy.” He grabbed the washcloth and ran into the bathroom. The cold water dampened the washcloth quickly, then he ran back into the bedroom. When he walked in he saw Leslie coming in with Bruce. “Hi, Dr. Leslie,” he said. 

“Hi, Dick,” Leslie said as she went over to Roy’s bed. She set her bag down, then put her hand on Roy’s forehead. “Roy? Can you hear me?” 

“Hmmm…” Roy moaned. His eyes fluttered open. “Hi…”

“Hi, sweetie. Can you sit up for me?” Bruce came over and helped Roy sit up and lean back against the headboard. “I’m going to take your temperature.” She pulled a thermometer out of her bag and put it in his mouth. “Has he been drinking water?” she asked Bruce. 

“I don’t think so,” Bruce replied as he put a hand on Dick’s chest to keep him from getting too close. “He’s been throwing up everything he swallows.”

“Hmm.” The thermometer beeped and she pulled it out. “104. He’s definitely running a fever.” She checked his pulse. “Roy, are you experiencing any aches?”

“Uh-huh…” Roy replied. “ ‘M tired.”

“Is your throat sore?”

“Uh-huh.” He coughed and Leslie rubbed his back in sympathy. 

“His pulse is a little slow.” She pulled her stethoscope off her neck, then listen to Roy’s breathing. Bruce watched as she listened to his lungs in several different places on his chest and back. Occasionally, she nodded, before eventually putting the stethoscope away. “Based on his symptoms, I’m going to diagnosis him with the flu.”

“Just the flu?”

“The flu can be a nasty virus, Bruce. Rest and hydration are what he needs. Since he can’t keep anything down I’m going to recommend you take him downstairs and put him on an IV. With his fever so high, it’s important he stays hydrated.” 

“Ok.” Bruce started to pull back the blankets from Roy’s feverish body as Leslie kept talking. 

“You can give him ibuprofen for the fever and his aches, but do not give him aspirin. I’m serious about this Bruce, do not give him aspirin, understand?”

“I got it.” Bruce lifted Roy up and started heading for the Cave. 

“He can’t be light.”

“He’s not. I’m sure you noticed that he’s put on a bit of weight in the last year.”

“Now that he’s no longer malnourished, his body is able to start building more muscle. That’s most likely where the weight is coming from. Recent illness aside, he’s very healthy.”

“I’m glad.” Dick ran ahead and got the entrance to the Cave open for them so Bruce could carry Roy downstairs. They went to the med bay and Bruce set Roy down on a bed. 

“Hmm?” Roy frowned and looked around. “Where…?”

“You’re in the Cave,” Dick explained while Leslie and Bruce set up the IV. “You have to stay here until you’re feeling better.”

“Oh…”

“Just focus on keeping him hydrated and give him some medicine to help with the pain,” Leslie advised Bruce as she expertly put the IV in Roy’s arm. “Call me if you have any questions, understand?”

“I understand,” Bruce replied. He cast a worried look down at Roy, who seemed to be falling asleep. 

— — 

Bruce chose to stay in the med bay while Roy was sleeping. He watched as the teen slept, tossing and turning throughout the night. Dick stayed too, but eventually, Bruce sent him up to bed. Unfortunately, this also meant Bruce was left by himself watching over Roy. 

Sometime in the middle of the night, Roy woke up, mumbling with his eyes still closed. 

“Roy,” Bruce said gently, he put his hand on Roy’s. “Roy, wake up. It’s ok, wake up.” 

Roy’s eyes fluttered open and he stared up at Bruce with a confused look on his face. “Uh…?”

“You’re downstairs, remember? You have the flu-“

“Ollie?” 

Bruce’s heart stopped. “….Roy-“

“Hi, Ollie.” Roy seemed to relax a little bit and his fingers weakly wrapped around Bruce’s hand. 

“Roy- I’m not-“

“You’re taking care of me?” Roy’s eyes never left Bruce, but they were wide and clearly feverish. It made Bruce extremely uncomfortable. “Thanks, Ollie.”

Bruce swallowed. “You’re welcome…”

“You….always take care of me…” Roy yawned, then winced as the action disturbed his sore throat. 

“You- You should sleep.”

“Ok…” Roy’s eyes closed and as soon as his breathing evened out a bit more, in between hacking coughs, of course, Bruce busied himself with making sure the IV was giving him enough saline. 

‘Why was he calling me Oliver?’ Bruce wondered as he did this. ‘Is he having a flashback? It doesn’t seem like it, he’s usually having a panic attack when one of those happens.’ What was happening then? ‘The fever is probably confusing him. He’s sick and dehydrated. I think some sleep and saline will help him. He’ll be fine.’ That theory seemed more likely to Bruce as Roy slept soundly through the rest of the night. Sometime close to the morning, Bruce checked the teen’s temperature again. It was still several degrees above 100 and the red tin to Roy’s cheeks remained constant. Everything was relatively peaceful enough, barring Roy’s coughing, that Bruce managed to nod off. He didn’t even bother moving from the chair he was sitting in with his head dropping onto his chest. It seemed like he had just dropped off for a few minutes when a loud noise woke him up. Bruce’s head snapped up and it took him a second to realize the noise was Roy. The teen was sitting up in bed, doubled over and clutching the edge of the bed with his hands. “Roy,” Bruce said, reaching out to put a comforting hand on his back. The teen kept coughing, almost seeming to choke on the sensation. “Roy, it’s ok-“ Roy flinched away from Bruce’s touch, a whine making its way through the coughing. 

“No…” Roy moaned, managing to choke out the word between coughs. 

“Roy, deep breaths-“

“I’m sorry!”

“Roy, shh. It’s ok, it’s-“

“Ollie.” Bruce froze and the next reassurance died on his tongue. “I’m sorry, Ollie. P-Please don't be mad.” The coughing fit started to die down, making it easier for Roy to talk. “I’m sorry, Ollie. I don’t mean to be sick…”

“Roy, it’s Bruce. You’re in Gotham.” 

“I’m sorry…” 

Bruce reached out to try and help Roy sit back and rest, but he was rejected when the teen pulled away again. 

“I’m sorry, Ollie.”

“Just…lay back, Roy. Lay back.” Roy did as he was told and stared up at Bruce with a deep look of regret and sadness that managed to make it through his feverish gaze. 

“I’m sorry….Ollie…”

“Shhh… It’s ok.”

Roy’s fingers settled on Bruce’s. “I miss you….”

It took nearly every ounce of self-control Bruce had to keep his features from registering his shock. “Just sleep, Roy. Just get some sleep.”

“Ok…” Roy’s fingers curled around Bruce’s weakly. “Miss you…” 

Bruce swallowed but remained silent. He watched as Roy eventually fell asleep again. ‘He must be hallucinating because of the fever,’ he thought as he used his free hand to gently wipe some sweat off Roy’s face with a cloth. ‘It’s just the fever. He doesn’t know what he’s saying.’ It didn’t really feel true, but it was the story Bruce was sticking with. Footsteps behind him alerted him to Dick’s approach. 

“Here,” the boy said, handing Bruce one of two plates he was carrying. There were a few slices of toast on it with jelly spread across. “Breakfast.”

“Thanks, Dick.” Bruce grimaced a little as he took a bite. ‘Right. I also have another kid I’m supposed to be taking care of.’ He took a few more bites of the toast. “Sorry for being so preoccupied-“

“It's ok. I want you to take care of Roy. I mean, we can’t take him to a hospital if he doesn’t get better, right?”

“No, we can’t. However, if he gets worse I’ll take him up to the Watchtower. It’s as good as a hospital.”

“Good.” Dick was quiet for a few minutes as he ate his own toast. “Is he better than he was yesterday?”

“No. I think the fever is getting worse, but he’s sleeping pretty comfortably for now. Hopefully, he’ll sleep until the fever breaks.” 

“I hope so.” 

Bruce let the conversation drop, too preoccupied with Roy’s rambling and instance that Bruce was Oliver. ‘His fever is probably making him hallucinate.’ Which wasn’t exactly a comforting thought. A fever that high must be dangerous. The worry caused Bruce to double-check the IV drip to make sure it was keeping Roy hydrated. ‘I can’t give him too much,’ he thought. ‘That’ll kill him.’ He sighed, then turned to Dick. “Can you go get cold presses and ice packs?”

“Absolutely.” His toast was only half finished, but Dick jumped to his feet and ran to get the requested items. 

‘Good. I need to get his fever down.’ Bruce felt Roy’s forehead, which was still burning hot to the touch. ‘if I can cool him off, his brain can relax, then he’ll be better. He’ll be better.’ He had to be. Bruce didn’t know if he could handle Roy thinking he was Oliver. ‘I don’t want to think about how that monster would’ve handled Roy when he was sick.’ Just the thought of Roy being so weak and dependent on the aid of someone who’d hurt him made Bruce burn with anger and simultaneously sick. “Roy,” he said quietly as he put his hand on the sleeping teen’s hand. “I’m not going to hurt you, I promise. I would never hurt you. I’m going to make you better, ok? You’re going to get better and everything will be ok. I promise.”

Dick returned not long after that with the cold presses and ice packs. He handed some to Bruce, then got to work packing them in around Roy’s feverish body. “Will this help him get better?” 

“I hope so.” Bruce hesitated for a moment when Roy moaned in his sleep, but he didn’t wake up. ‘As long as he stays asleep,’ Bruce thought as he put the ice packs around Roy’s body. ‘These will help. They have to.’ Once that was done, Bruce resumed his seat to keep vigil. 

For a while, Dick kept him company, but the boy wasn’t known for his ability to still in silence. After half an hour of squirming and tapping, Dick left the medbay, but not before checking Roy’s forehead himself, and giving his brother a kiss on the cheek before he left. 

A small smile appeared on Bruce’s face. “I’m glad you two are so close,” he said quietly to Roy’s sleeping form. “I can see how you’re being here helps Dick. It’s great.” Roy didn’t wake up, but Bruce decided that was for the best. Sleep was the best thing for Roy to get better. ‘I really hope he sleeps until the fever breaks.’ 

— — 

Through some stroke of good luck, by the time Roy was stirring again, his fever had gone down a few degrees. Just as the thermometer beeped, the teen’s eyes fluttered open. Bruce took a moment to check the reading, 101.3 degrees, then set it aside and looked down at Roy. “Roy?” he asked cautiously. “How do you feel?”

Roy frowned and looked around like he was confused. “Why ‘m I d'wnst'rs?”

“You have the flu. Leslie told me to bring you down here so you could be on an IV.” 

“Oh. M’ks sense.”

‘Why is he speech slurred’ Bruce wondered, starting to worry. “Roy, is your mouth ok?”

Roy made a face. “I’s dry an’ fussy.”

“Dry and fuzzy. Ok, that’s just because it’s been over 24 hours since you’ve had water.” Bruce retrieved a cup of water for Roy and handed it to him. Before he could warn Roy not to down the whole thing, the teen did exactly that. “You shouldn’t have done that. It’ll upset your stomach.”

“My mouth feels better, though,” Roy responded, now able to reply properly since his mouth no longer had the consistency of cotton. However, this argument didn’t feel relevant for very long, because a few seconds later his stomach started to lurch. “Don’t feel good…” 

‘I told him,’ Bruce thought as he grabbed a small bucket. He got it in position just as Roy started vomiting. He rubbed the teen’s back as he heaved until it eventually stopped. Bruce then set the buck aside and got Roy another cup of water. “Three small sips. Understand?”

“Mhm.” Roy took the cup and took the three sips. 

Before he could take another sip, Bruce put his hand over the top of the cup. “Now we’ll wait a minute.”

“Ok.” Roy laid back, somehow exhausted, but kept his grip on the cup. 

“How do you feel?”

“Chest hurts… Warm… Uh…” He coughed for a few seconds. “Coughing. Head hurts…”

“I’ll put some pain medicine into the IV drip.”

“Thanks.”

Bruce moved his hand and let Roy drink four sips before he put his hand back over the cup. “I know it’s annoying, but you need to take small sips or you’ll make yourself sick again.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s ok. I know you’re thirsty right now.” Bruce hesitated for a moment, then cleared his throat. “Roy, did Oliver ever take care of you when you were sick?”

Roy was quiet for a full two minutes. “Sometimes. I didn’t get sick a lot, luckily, but if it was small like a cold he’d tell me to just tough it out. One time I was throwing up and he got mad at me for throwing up my dinner. He brought me water and soup, and he let me sleep instead of doing school work and practicing my archery.” Roy shrugged. “When I was really sick he was nicer. As long as I wasn’t sick for a long time.” 

“Oh. Ok.” Something in Bruce’s chest loosened. ‘It’s not great, but it’s much better than what I’d feared.’ He moved his hand and let Roy take another four sips before covering the cup again. “Do you remember waking up earlier?”

Roy shook his head. “No. I was awake?”

“Yes. You were…hallucinating as a result of the fever.”

“I was?”

“Yes. You thought I was Oliver and kept apologizing.” 

“Oh.”

Bruce hesitated for a moment before continuing. “You also said that you missed me.” 

“I did?”

“Yes.” Bruce put his hand on Roy’s when the teen turned away, but the hand twitched away. “Roy, it's ok.”

“It’s not.” Roy’s voice was tight with unshed tears. “I- It’s not all the time, but sometimes, I miss him. I miss how safe I felt when I first lived with him. How excited I would get on good days when he was nice. I miss him teaching me new archery shots.” Roy pushed the cup away and rubbed at his eyes. “I know I shouldn’t miss him, but-“

“Shh. Shh, it’s ok.” Bruce set the cup aside and rubbed Roy’s leg over the blanket. “It's ok. I’m not mad and you’re not in trouble. You don’t have to explain yourself to me.”

“R-Really?”

“Yes. Your…feelings about Oliver and about the situation are valid, and they’re yours. You don’t have to justify it to anyone.”

“But he abused me! He used me and lied to me! How can I miss someone like that?!”

“Because before he did all those things, he was your friend. Someone you trusted in your most vulnerable hours. It makes sense.” He squeezed Roy’s lower leg gently. “You’re the only who can decide how you feel about Oliver. Even if I, or Dick, or anyone, don’t understand your feelings, that’s ok. I don’t need to understand them.”

“You don’t?”

“No. But, if it upsets you, maybe you should talk to Black Canary about it next time you go to therapy.”

“Ok.” Roy laid back down as he wiped his tears. “Thanks.”

“Of course. I’ll get you some pain medicine.” Bruce was mildly proud of himself for remembering everything Dinah and taught him about how to handle Roy’s emotions toward his situation. ‘I’m not as terrible at this as she thinks.’ He injected the pain medicine into the IV, then sat next to Roy’s bed again. 

“‘m tired…” Roy yawned. 

“Sleep then. You don’t have to worry about getting better fast.”

“Ok.” Roy snuggled down in the bed and Bruce covered him more with the blanket. “Bruce?”

“Yes?”

“Thank you…”

“You’re welcome.” Bruce watched as Roy was asleep within seconds. ‘Take all the time you need to get better, Roy. I’ll be right here until you do.’


	2. Support

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the next one shot. Enjoy!

“Why the long face?” Roy asked, looking up from his chemistry work as Dick slouched into the dining room. 

“Nothing….” Dick mumbled. He sat down in a chair across from Roy and sighed. 

“You’re not doing a lot to convince me there, kid.”

“Master Dick is merely a little….upset by today’s events,” Alfred explained. 

“He’s not the only one,” Bruce mumbled, loosening his tie. He then sighed and rubbed this face with one hand. 

“It’s just a little bruise!” Dick said suddenly, throwing his hands in the air. “Why does the guidance counselor care so much?! And Mr. Stevens! He wouldn’t stop asking questions!”

“…What happened today?” Roy asked, a little concerned. 

“My stupid teacher saw the bruise on my face, the one I got from Riddler?”

“Yeah.” It was two inches wide and darkened the left side of the 11-year-old’s cheek. 

“Then she sent me to the nurse, who called the CPS guy!”

Roy frowned. “CPS?” 

“Child Protective Services,” Alfred said when he saw the confused look on Roy’s face. “They are an agency who get involved when there is suspected child abuse.”

“…They think Dick is being abused?”

“Yeah!” Dick yelled, throwing his hands in the air again. “And no matter how many times I told them Bruce never hits me, they didn’t believe me!”

“It's not that they don’t believe you, Dick,” Bruce told him. “There’s a process for this sort of thing.”

“And no one thinks you’re being abused anymore, young sir,” Alfred assured the boy. “I think the conversations today put that to rest.”

“Thank god,” Bruce sighed. He turned to go to his study but stopped in his tracks when he saw Roy’s face. The teen was sitting there, brow furrowed and mouth drawn in a frown. He was concentrating on something far away like he was trying to solve a difficult math problem. “Uh…Dick, why don’t you go upstairs and do your homework?”

“Really, homework?”

“Yes. Homework.” Bruce nodded toward the door with his head. “Go.” 

Dick looked between Bruce and Roy, then nodded slowly. “Ok.”

Once Dick was gone, Bruce sat down in a chair next to Roy. “Roy…” he said slowly. “Roy.”

“Huh?” Roy snapped out of his daze. “Oh, sorry.”

“It’s ok. You just…looked confused.”

“I- I don’t understand.”

“What?”

“They- They thought Dick was being abused but they didn’t take him away?”

“Removing a child from an abusive situation immediately only happens when there is obvious and dangerous abuse taking place,” Alfred explained. 

“Like-Like with…Ollie?”

“Yes, like that.”

“So they don’t just…take kids away if they have one bruise?”

“Well…no…” Bruce frowned a little bit. ‘Is that what he’s worried about, there was the possibility someone was going to take Dick away?’ Which made sense, but Roy should’ve known the system didn’t work that way. Or at least…Bruce hoped he did. “Roy, what do you know about CPS?”

“Um…Dick said they were the child protective services. And Alfred said they try to help kids who are being abused. But how do they find out?”

“People alert them when they notice something’s wrong. Teachers, doctors, guidance counselors, nurses, all these people are trained to see the signs of this sort of thing.”

“So, Dick’s teacher’s didn’t want him to be taken away from you…they just thought he was being abused?”

“Yes.”

“They’re also mandated reporters. Teachers are legally required to report times when they think abuse is taking place.”

“They are?”

“Yes. So not only were they doing their jobs, but they were doing what they are legally required to.”

Roy was quiet for a minute. “Is-is that why Ollie wouldn’t let me go to school? Because someone could’ve seen me and reported it?”

“I don’t know the exact reason he chose not to send you, Roy, but…that could be part of it.” It was silent for a minute as Roy stared at his chemistry homework, and almost appeared to be lost in thought. 

‘Ollie knew,’ Roy thought. ‘He had to have known what would happen if he sent me to school.’ On some level, he felt like he shouldn’t have been surprised that Oliver had purposefully kept him away from people who would’ve tried to help him, but he still was. Roy closed his eyes for a moment, trying to fight off the deep-seated betrayal he still felt towards Oliver. 

“Roy, are you ok?” 

“Mhm.” Roy nodded and opened his eyes. “I’m ok, Bruce.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah. I’m going to finish my homework upstairs.”

“Ok.” Bruce watched Roy go with a slight look of worry. ‘I don’t think he’s ok, but what else can I do?’

— — 

Sometime later, Roy abandoned his 3/4 finished chemistry homework and wandered outside to the yard. He laid down in the grass, enjoying the late spring warmth. He closed his eyes and tried to settle down, but the anxiety and betrayal had continued to haunt him. After a few minutes, he heard the sound of someone walking across the grass toward him. The person sat down, then laid down with their head on his stomach. “Hey, Dick.”

“Hi,” Dick mumbled.

Roy frowned and opened his eyes. “What’s with the tone?”

“Bummed…”

“Why?”

“Bruce says I can’t patrol for a couple of days until this…incident dies down.”

“So? What’s the big deal?”

Dick sat up sharply and gave Roy an angry look. “The big deal is first my teacher accused Bruce of something he didn’t do, and now because of it, I can’t patrol!”

Roy sat up, his frown deepening. “You’re seriously mad because of your teacher reporting Bruce?”

“Falsely!”

“Dick, she did that to protect you.”

“No, she’s trying to get Bruce in trouble! Everyone always says these, horrible lies about him! I hate it!”

“She’s doing her job, Dick!”

“You don’t understand! They wanted to take me away, Roy!”

“They wanted to protect you!” 

“You don’t understand!” 

“I do understand-“

“No, you don’t!”

“I do-”

“No!” Dick jumped to his feet. “Just because you were abused that doesn’t mean you know everything!”

“I’m not saying I know everything. I just think-”

“I don’t care what you think! Just… Leave me alone!” Dick ran back into the Manor, brushing past Bruce, who’d been down to the door when he heard shouting. 

‘Oh boy…’ Bruce thought as he watched Dick disappear into the Manor. He looked back at Roy, who stared at the grass, then in the direction that Dick disappeared to. ‘Ok, I can only handle one of them at a time. I think I’ll give Dick a few minutes to calm down.’ Nodding to himself, Bruce walked outside and stood next to Roy. “Can I sit?”

“Sure,” Roy replied, playing with a piece of grass between his fingers. 

Bruce sat down. He waited a few seconds before asking, “What happened?”

“I don’t know. Dick said he was upset and I told him that his teacher was trying to protect him and he got mad at me!”

“Dick’s just upset about what happened today. It’s not the first time this has happened-“

“I know that. I know he’s upset because someone accused you of hurting him but- They’re just looking out for him, Bruce. They’re- They’re trying to help him. He only had one bruise and they were ready to jump in and help him!” Roy looked at Bruce. “I- I would’ve given anything to know someone besides Oliver cared about me like that.”

Bruce swallowed as a wave of guilt hit him. “Roy-“

“I just don’t get why Dick doesn’t see that. Doesn’t he understand how lucky he is that there are people looking out for him? It’s so much worse when no one is! He’s not all alone…” Roy’s voice cracked a little and he sniffed. 

“Roy…” Bruce reached out, then withdrew his arm. “Did you…explain this to Dick?”

“I tried, but he wouldn’t listen! Besides, shouldn’t he just…know?!”

“Ok, ok. I’ll talk to Dick, but Roy…I know things can seem…obvious to you given your…previous experiences, but Dick doesn’t have those experiences. If you want him to understand why you feel a certain way or think something, you need to explain it to him. And he’s four years younger than you. I know it seems like he’s older than he actually is sometimes, but he is a child.” 

“I know he’s a child. That’s why I’m…a little ok with what happened today.” He looked up at Bruce suddenly, a little bit of fear evident in his features. “Is- Is that bad?”

“No. It makes complete sense given what you’ve been through.” 

“Ok.” Roy plucked another piece of grass, then poked his fingertips with it. “Were you angry about what happened today?”

Bruce tried not to sigh. “Will you be upset if I say yes?” 

“No.”

“Well, yes. I was. It was more just being angry about anyone thinking I would ever hurt Dick, though. Deep down I understand they’re just doing their jobs.” 

“I wonder what Ollie would’ve done.”

‘I’d prefer not to think about that,’ Bruce thought. The conversation he’d with Oliver when he and Dick had been spying on the archers the previous year came back to him. Particularly, he thought about how irritated and defensive Oliver had gotten even at the mention of Roy’s injuries. ‘God, I could only imagine what Oliver would’ve done to Roy. He would’ve blamed it on him. And it’s not like Star City’s CPS would’ve been able to hide Roy from Green Arrow.’ A sudden image of Green Arrow killing a set of innocent, unsuspecting foster parents and dragging a terrified Roy back his mansion made Bruce’s hands clench. ‘That bastard. Maybe it’s better no one ever found out.’ In the Catch 22 that was thinking about the subject, it also made Bruce feel guilty for thinking it was better that Roy felt so alone and at Oliver’s mercy for two years. “Thankfully, you never have to know.”

“He would’ve been mad. Ollie was always telling me that he’d kill me if I ever tried to tell someone.” Roy shrugged. “Don’t know who I would’ve told anyway.” 

Bruce took a couple of deep breaths and slowly unclenched his fingers, then put a hand on Roy’s shoulder. A small flinch went through his body, but he didn’t move away. “It’s all behind you now, Roy. You don’t have to worry about it anymore.”

“I know.” It didn’t feel behind him, especially with his nightmares, while not as frequent, were still present. But it was something. “I- I think I’m going to go for a walk.”

“Ok. Dinner should be ready in about an hour.”

“Got it.” They stood up and Roy walked off, heading east on the property. Bruce watched him go for a few moments before he turned back towards the Manor. ‘That went surprisingly well. I didn’t say anything that upset him, I controlled my own emotions when I was around him. The conversation delved into some…less than great topics, but Dinah is always telling me how Roy needs to talk about what happened.’ As he stepped onto the Manor, there were no signs of Dick. “Hm…upstairs or downstairs?” Since he was already on the first floor, the “upstairs gym” seemed like the best place to start. He walked down the hall to the gym. When he got close, he could see one of the double doors was slightly ajar. Inside, he found Dick somersaulting aggressively across a high balance beam. ‘Figures.’ For a few seconds, he just stood there and watched his younger ward flipping and cartwheeling his way, back and forth on the balance beam. Eventually, Dick threw himself off it, completing a triple flip before he landed. Bruce gave him a few short claps.

Dick turned around, unsurprised. “What’s up?” he asked. 

“I…wanted to check on you.”

“Why?”

“You had a fight with Roy.” 

Dick’s face contorted into a bit of a scowl. “It wasn’t a fight. He was being dumb.”

“Don’t call Roy dumb, Dick.” 

I didn’t say-“

“Dick.”

Dick sighed. “Fine. But he’s still being….” the boy paused as he searched for the right word. “wrong.”

“Why is he wrong?” Bruce walked farther into the room while Dick climbed onto the balance beam to sit on it. 

“Because he thinks what my teacher did isn’t so bad!” 

“Do you know why he thinks that?”

“Because he thinks he knows everything.”

“I know you know that’s not true. Roy is smart, but he hardly goes around acting like he knows everything.”

“You know what I mean. Just because he was abused, that doesn’t mean he knows why my teacher reported you.”

Bruce hesitated for a moment as he thought about how to best handle this. “Dick, did Roy go to school when he lived with Oliver?”

“…No?”

“Did he ever interact with doctors or police, as Roy Harper. Anyone who would’ve thought to call CPS?”

“No.”

“So, don’t you understand why, from his point of view, it seems like what your teacher did wasn’t so bad?”

“He wasn’t there, he doesn’t know.”

“Roy has been there, Dick. He knows how bad it is when abuse happens and no one says anything.”

“But it’s not happening!”

“Dick.” Bruce put his hands on the boy’s small shoulders gently. “I know. And Roy knows. But your teachers didn’t. As far as they knew, I could’ve been. And Roy sees that. He understands that people outside our home don’t know what we do day-to-day. Which means they were doing what they thought was best for you. Roy didn’t have that. No one was there to see that something bad was happening and no one tried to report Oliver.”

Dick looked at the ground. “I know that, Bruce. I’m still not happy about it. You’re great and you don’t deserve for anyone to accuse you of being like Oliver.” 

Bruce clear this throat to try and dislodge the sincerity that had closed it. “I just think you need to try and see it from Roy’s point of view.” There was a moment of hesitation on Dick’s face. “Please, Dick?”

“…Alright. I’ll try.”

“That’s all I ask.” 

Dick sighed as Bruce left the gym. ‘I know Roy didn’t have anyone, but I don’t need anyone. It’s not the same thing!’ And yet Dick still felt like he was missing something. ‘Roy knows it’s not the same thing. Bruce is right, he’s really smart. So…why did he get so upset?’ Roy got upset over a lot of things. But those were related to his trauma. ‘Does this count? It’s…loosely related I guess.’ Dic sighed again, even more dramatically this time, then stood on the balance beam. ‘I don’t know why Roy’s acting like this. It doesn’t make any sense.’ 

— — 

Later that night, after patrol, Roy caught up to Dick as the boy was going into his room. Dinner and patrol had been largely silent for the two of them, save for them replying to Bruce. The silence bothered Roy, who couldn’t stand the idea of his brother hating him. His need to make things better between them drove him past his bedroom and toward Dick’s. “Hey, Dick,” he said a little cautiously. His greeting made the boy stop just in the doorway of his room. 

“Yeah?” Dick asked. 

“I-I’m sorry. About earlier. I didn’t want to upset you.”

“Then why did you?”

Roy looked down at the slightly sharp tone of Dick’s voice. He started playing with the hem of his t-shirt. “I-I was just… It made me happy that there are people looking out for you like that. I know Bruce would never hurt you, but… It makes me happy that you would have people you can count on. Especially since…I didn’t really have that.” 

Dick frowned and send quietly to rest his head against the doorframe. “That’s what Bruce meant…” he mumbled under this breath. 

“What’d you say?”

“Nothing.” Dick stood up straight and looked at Roy. “I’m sorry. I think I was just…overreacting because I was upset about what happened today.”

“It’s ok. I’m not mad at you.”

“Thanks.” Dick held out his hand and Roy pulled him close when he took it. He gave the boy a tight hug. 

“I’m just happy you’re so safe.”

Dick’s smile wavered a little bit as he buried his face in Roy’s shirt. “Right back at you, Roy.” He pulled away after a moment, then smiled up at Roy. “Want to come play video games?”

“But we’re supposed to go to bed.”

“It’s Friday. Besides, it’ll be fine if we’re quiet.” 

“…Alright.” 

Dick grinned as he pulled Roy into his room, then shut the door. Unbeknownst to them, Bruce watched from down the hall. He smiled when both boys disappeared into Dick’s room. ‘It’s a good thing those boys have each other. Makes me glad to know it.’


	3. Grief

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, it's been so long for this. I had a lot going on (moving and getting my wisdom teeth out) but I have another one-shot. Good news though, I've been working on the third story and I'm making great progress! Read on and enjoy!

Late morning light filled Roy’s room, but he didn’t feel like moving. He didn’t feel like moving though. It felt like too much effort. The dream from that night lingered on the edges of his brain. Roy sniffed and didn’t even bother to wipe the tears from his face as they slipped from his eyes. He just kept replaying the dream over and over again, clinging to the sound of his late dad's voice. He didn’t even lift his head when the door to his bedroom opened a little while later. 

“Master Roy?” Alfred asked. “Are you awake, sir?” 

Roy nodded but didn’t try to reply verbally. Nothing happened for a few seconds, the Alfred walked closer and put a hand on his forehead. 

“Do you feel ill?” Alfred didn’t miss the tears on Roy’s face. “My poor, boy…” Alfred sat on the edge of the bed and rubbed Roy’s shoulder. “Did you have a bad dream, sir?” 

“…Kind of…” Roy whispered, his voice breaking a little. “Not- Not really…” 

‘Not really, hmm?’ Alfred stood, then checked Roy’s forehead one more time. “Do you think you could stomach some food, sir?” All he got was a head shake. “I’ll bring you some water then.” There was no reply. Alfred left silently, with a concerned frown on his face. He walked straight to Bruce’s office and knocked on the door before entering. 

Bruce looked up from his work. “Is something wrong?” he asked when he saw Alfred's frown. 

“I think something is troubling Master Roy.” 

“Why do you say that?”

“He hasn’t gotten out of bed yet and he isn’t talking.”

“So is he sick?”

“I don’t think so. He doesn’t have a fever and…he’s crying, sir.”

“Crying?” Bruce set his pen down. “Did he have a nightmare?”

“I don’t know, sir. Normally he’s more…anxious and panicky after a night terror. However, right now he is simply depressed.” 

Bruce sighed. “I don’t know what I’ll be able to do, but I’ll go talk to him.” 

“A good idea, sir.” 

After Alfred left, Bruce continued to sit at his desk for a moment. ‘This is…new,’ he thought. ‘Depression hasn’t been one of Roy’s trauma symptoms and Dinah never said anything about new symptoms appearing.’ Meaning Dinah had never given him a way to deal with depression in Roy. Panic attacks? check. Anxiety attacks? Check. Flashbacks? Check. Nowhere on his list of symptoms, he could handle was depression. ‘Even if it’s not a…normal symptom, I still need to go check on him. If it’s related to a night terror then the crying might mean something is getting worse.’ Which is exactly what he needed when things were getting better and Roy’s nightmares were becoming less frequent. More new trauma symptoms. Bruce sighed, then stood up. ‘I can’t keep putting this off, or Alfred will track me down and give me the look of eternal disappointment.’ 

By the time he got to Roy’s room, Bruce felt reasonably prepared to deal with whatever was wrong with Roy. He knocked quietly as he opened the door to the teen’s bedroom. The shades were all still drawn and Roy was laying in his bed. “Roy?” Bruce asked as he approached. “Are you awake?” Roy’s head nodded. “Ok, good. Uh…do you feel sick?” A head shake. “That’s also good. Uh… Did you have a nightmare?” Another head shake. “Are you sure?”

“It wasn’t…bad…” Roy whispered. “Just…sad…”

“Ok.” Bruce sat on the edge of the bed. “What happened?”

Roy whimpered as he started crying again. “I- I was hiking in the mountains. You know…on the reservation? And Brave Bow was there and he was hiking ahead of me. He kept saying to keep up and not to get lost. So- So I kept trying, but…no matter how fast I went I was never any closer. Then when we got to the top he just…disappeared!” Roy rolled over so he was sobbing into his pillow, making it harder for Bruce to hear. “He disappeared! And I just stood there and watched! I couldn’t do anything about it! I just stood there!” 

“Ok, Roy. Shhh. It’s ok, it was just a dream.” Bruce rubbed Roy’s back using mostly his fingertips, mindful of the fact Roy was wary of touch. 

“I- I just… I keep thinking about him and I get this- this feeling in my chest. Like my heart hurts. I haven’t felt like this since right when he died!” 

Bruce’s hand stopped for a moment. “Roy… I know this might be a tough topic for you, but… After Brave Bow died and you went to…Star…did Oliver ever…do anything to help you deal with your grief?” 

“…No. I had a couple of dreams like this and he-he would get mad if I ever woke him up.” Roy shivered. “He’d beat me and call me weak. He said I didn’t need to be sad because I had everything I needed. Once everything got bad… I guess I just kind of forgot I was sad.” 

“Right…” The simultaneous anger at how Roy’s grief had been disregarded and pity for how cruel the world had been to a 12-year-old warred in Bruce’s mind. However, the loud sobbing and whimpering gave the pity an extra boost. So Bruce went back to rubbing Roy’s back, with a bit more force this time when he didn’t get a negative reaction. “Have you had these kinds of dreams lately?”

“Kind of… It’s just so calm here and… I don’t know, I’ve been thinking about him and…” Roy didn’t go on.

“Ok, ok. Shhhh. Just take deep breaths. In…out…in…out… Good job. Ok, grief is hard, especially if you don’t deal with it.” 

“I kind of did…” Roy sat up and wiped his eyes. 

“I hate to say it, Roy, but you didn’t. It’s still upsetting you.”

“Is it something that’s supposed to stop hurting?”

Bruce sighed. “I used to think it wasn’t but honestly, Dick has been a lot better the last year. So I guess that means there’s a chance.” 

“I want it to stop, Bruce. I know I have bigger issues like the PTSD and stuff-”

“Roy, you know Dinah is always telling you that your feelings are never invalid. This includes this.”

“How do I make it stop? I miss him so much…” 

“What do you miss?”

“Everything…”

“Tell me specifics. If you talk about him, I promise it will help.” A look of hesitation passed over Roy’s face. “I promise, you don’t have to worry about anything if you tell me. We can even keep it between us if you want.”

“…Ok.” Roy sniffed and rubbed his eyes again. “He- He was creative. Sometimes we would grill meat on a…a pan on the road in the middle of summer.”

“Was he a good cook?”

“Yeah.” Roy grabbed one of his pillows and hugged it to his chest. “Grilling meat and stews were his specialties. He wasn’t good with baking. Everything was always brunt or under-done. It was ok though.” 

“He taught you archery, right?”

“Yeah… He was a fantastic archer. When he was young, he was well-known on the reservation for how good he could shoot. He could even shoot from a moving horse! Do you know how hard that is?! He was just that good.”

“Sounds impressive. He would have to be skilled to have such a talented son.”

“He also knew everything. Everything. Every plant that grew in town and on the mountains. Every trail you oddly hike on. The animals, the stars, how to fix his truck…there was never anything he didn’t have an answer for. Probably because he liked to read. He was one of those ‘tv will rot your brain’ type people. When I was a kid I always thought it was lame, but it made those times we’d watch old movies together better. You know…in hindsight.” Roy sniffed and hugged his pillow to his chest tighter and laid back down. “When we had bad thunderstorms and I was little…he’d stay up with me telling me stories. I’d always fall asleep in his bed when I was scared because it felt like the safest place in the world.” 

“Parents can have that effect.”

“He could be strict sometimes…but I even miss that.”

“It sounds like he was an amazing man.” He had to have been to raise such a great kid. 

“You know…sometimes I think about…what he’d think about all of this…”

“All of this?”

“Ollie…the abuse…Speedy… Brave Bow always hated Green Arrow and I worry- I worry he’d be so disappointed in me for working with Ollie. For getting myself into this mess and bringing him into our lives-”

“Stop right there.” Bruce’s voice was stern, but he tried to keep it even enough that it wouldn’t scare Roy. “Roy, none of this is your fault.”

“But-”

“No, buts. The only person to blame for this is Oliver.” And maybe Bruce for not getting Roy away from Oliver fast enough. 

“I’m the one who brought Ollie back to our house! None of this would’ve happened if I had just gone home that day! Brave Bow would be disappointed if he knew what I did!”

“No, Roy…” Bruce thought about his response for a moment before he said it. “I might never have known Brave Bow, but as a parent… I’m positive he wouldn’t blame you for this. He wouldn’t be disappointed.” There was no response. ‘If anything I think he would’ve blamed himself for not keeping that monster away from his son when he had the chance.’ Bruce kept up his rubbing of Roy’s back. “I promise you, Roy, you don’t have to worry.”

“I can’t help it, Bruce… I miss him and I- I want to honor his memory and make him proud.” Tears started falling down his face again. 

“You do, Roy.” Bruce felt the urge to wipe the tears from Roy’s face, like he’d done for Dick, but resisted. So far Roy hadn’t reacted badly to any of the touches, but Bruce knew he had to be cautious. “I can’t think of any reason he wouldn’t be proud.”

“After I started working with the one human being on the planet he despised and killed people-”

“What you did was survive a hellish situation, decided to help others, and worked very hard to overcome your trauma. Not to mention how smart and talented you are. If he could see the trick arrows you’ve built I know he’d be proud of you.”

“…You think so?”

“I do.” Bruce kept rubbing Roy’s back. The teen was still crying, but it was quieter and not as desperate as before. “It’s ok to cry, Roy. You suffered a hard loss and crying is a natural reaction.” 

“I just feel so sad…”

“I know. If you want, you can just lay here in your pajamas today. You can just be sad as long as you need to.”

“…What about Alfred? He doesn’t like it if we spend all day in pajamas.”

“I’ll deal with Alfred. You won’t get in trouble, I promise.”

“…Ok.” Roy sniffed and put his pillow back, then laid on it. “Thanks, Bruce.”

“You’re welcome.” Bruce stood up and noticed the Navajo blanket he’d even to Roy was draped over his desk chair. Moving on instinct, he grabbed the blanket, then draped it over Roy. The teen immediately wrapped it tighter, like a burrito, then buried his face in it. ‘It went ok, but it definitely could’ve gone worse.’ At least he hadn’t caused Roy any more emotional hurt. That was alleyways a victory. When Bruce left Roy’s bedroom, Dick was waiting in the hall. 

“Alfred said Roy is sad,” Dick said. “What’s wrong?”

Bruce knelt. “Roy is feeling a little down today. He misses his adopted dad a lot right now.”

“Oh… I want to see him.” Dick tried to move toward the door, but Bruce stopped him. 

“That’s ok, Dick, but if Roy wants to be alone, then you need to respect that and leave him alone. Understand?”

“Yes.”

“Ok. Good. Go ahead, then.” 

Dick broke away, then darted over to Roy’s bedroom door. He knocked softly, then walked in. “Roy?” he said. Without waiting for a reply he went to Roy’s bed and climbed onto it. “Are you ok?”

Roy shrugged. “Not really…”

“That’s ok.” Dick laid down next to his brother and wrapped his arms around his neck. “I’m here. It always makes me feel better knowing you’re here.” There was no reply for a minute, then Roy rolled over. He threw part of the blanket over Dick, then pulled his brother close. Dick smiled as he settled against his brother’s chest, well-aware of the tear-drops that fell on his head. 

— — 

The entire day was spent in bed, trying not to think about how much Roy’s heart hurt. Neither Alfred or Bruce tried to come in or make him leave. Eventually, though, Roy sat up and looked out the window. The sun had begun to set and he frowned slowly. ‘…The whole day passed?’ he wondered. A glance down at Dick showed that his younger brother had fallen asleep. ‘I don’t want to wake him up.’ Roy moved as carefully as possible so as not to disturb Dick as he climbed off the bed. He glanced out his windows again. ‘It’s so nice out…’ 

Roy crawled under his bed for a moment to retrieve the burned bow underneath, then grabbed the Navajo blanket from the floor. He glanced at Dick as he left the room, but the younger boy never even stirred. After letting himself out of his room, Roy went downstairs to the back door. He stepped outside into the late spring air and closed his eyes for a moment. Longing overwhelmed him as he ached to feel the blistering heat on his skin and the dry dirt beneath his feet. If he focused hard, he could almost imagine he was standing in the desert again. But when he opened his eyes, he was met with the disappointing grass and trees of the Northern US. The air had a strong chill that it had never had in Arizona this late in March. 

‘I wonder what happened to all my classmates?’ Roy wondered as he walked across the back lawn; barely aware of the grass under his bare feet. ‘What’re they up to now? The high school wasn’t far from our elementary school. Do they still walk past it on their way home like the teenagers did when we were little?’ His old life felt like it was 1,000 years ago. How could 3 years feel so long? Roy eventually stopped at a tree and sat under it. He pulled his blanket around himself and sat cross-legged so could balance his bow across his knees. 

“What did you want to give me for my 13th birthday?” he asked to the space around him. “Would I have had room for all my competition medals on the wall in my room by the time I started high school? Would I have let you drive me, or would I have insisted on walking with the older kids?” A sob escaped him and Roy bit his bottom lip. “How many more camping trips would we have taken? Would you have let me become a professional, competitive archer like I wanted?” Another sob and Roy closed his eyes. “There are so many things I’ll never know and I can’t stand it! I want to be mad because you left me just like my birth father… Just like everyone else…

“But I miss you so much that’d I give anything just to have ten more minutes. Just- Just so I can hug you and tell you I love you. Just so I can tell you how much I’ve missed you.” Roy opened his eyes and looked down at his bow. His hands tightened around the blackened wood. “Everything changed so fast… I never really got to say good-bye. To say thank you. For taking me in. For raising me. For being my dad.” Roy pulled his bow and knees close to his chest, then closed his eyes and cried. He cried so much that when someone put their hand on his shoulder, he jumped and moved away at the same moment. 

“Sorry,” Bruce apologized quickly, hands up in a placating gesture. “Sorry. I was trying to get your attention without startling you but…I guess it didn’t work out like that.” 

“It’s ok…” Roy mumbled, eyes still damp. He sat again and pulled his blanket tighter around his body. 

“Can I sit with you?” There was a moment of hesitation, then Roy shrugged his shoulders. “Thanks…” Bruce sat on the grass next to Roy; making sure to keep a foot of space between them. “Still feeling…upset?” Roy nodded in response. “That’s ok. It’s ok to be sad.” 

“I miss it so much…”

“What?”

“My old life… Brave Bow… All of it!”

Bruce nodded in understanding. “I’m sure so many changes in such a short amount of time wasn’t been easy.”

“One day I was in Arizona and then I was in Star…”

“I don’t know if it helps…but just…try to hold on to all the good memories you have of that time. Because no matter what happened after, no one can take those memories from you. And you still have a lot to look forward to in the future.” 

“…It doesn’t help a lot…” Roy sniffed and rubbed his eyes with his blanket. “But…it helps a little…” His good memories with Brave Bow was one of the few things Oliver hadn’t managed to ruin. 

“Good. I’m glad it at least helps a little.” Bruce looked at his watch, then glanced at Roy. “It’s just about dinner time. Why don’t we go inside?”

“…Ok.” Roy stood, his blanket still wrapped around him. 

It was quiet for a few moments as the two walked back to the Manor. “You know…” Bruce ventured. “I was thinking maybe we could…do a short patrol tonight.”

“A short patrol?”

“Yeah. It’s been…quieter lately. I’m assuming you don’t want to come?” He glanced at Roy and got a quick nod in response. Bruce could’ve sighed. ‘It’ll still be a while before I can get him back on the streets.’ Which wasn’t his main concern right now. “Well…Dick and I could come home early and we could…watch some movies-”

“You don’t have to do that.” 

“I know I don’t have to.” Bruce waited, but Roy didn’t say anything else. “Maybe we can watch some of those old Bond movies. You mentioned that Brave Bow liked those movies.”

Roy nodded. “Yeah. He did.” He wiped his eyes again. “I’d like that though.”

“Then we can do ti.”

“But you said Dick doesn’t like those movies.”

“It doesn’t matter if Dick doesn’t like them.”

“Ok, then. That sounds nice. Thanks, Bruce.”

“You’re welcome.” Bruce was just glad he’d be able to get Roy’s mind off how upset he was for a few hours. 

“What did Alfred make for dinner?”

“Why don’t we find out?” 

Dick was already sitting at the dining room table when they walked in. If he thought it was strange Roy hadn’t been there when he’d woken from his nap, he didn’t say anything. He simply smiled at Roy as the teen set his blanket and bow on an empty chair, then sat down across from him. “Hungry?” Dick asked. 

“A bit…” Roy admitted. He hadn’t eaten anything all day, so he was pretty hungry. 

“I’m glad to hear that,” Alfred said, carrying two bowls. “I wanted to save this for your next birthday as a surprise…but I sense you could use it now.”

“What is it?” Roy examined the bowl in front of him and gave it a sniff before taking a small spoonful. 

“It is a recipe I found while doing some research. I believe you call it-”

“Atoo’!” The familiar taste was unmistakable. Roy almost smiled. “Alfred, how did you make it?”

“I was doing some research on Navajo dishes after you mentioned during a lesson that you missed the…Atoo’. I found this recipe online, so I am not certain as to its authenticity.” 

“It’s perfect.” Roy looked at Dick encouragingly. “Go on, try it.”

Dick sniffed his spoon, the shrugged and took a big sip. “…Interesting.”

“What exactly is this?” Bruce asked a little skeptically. 

“Lamb soup.”

“Lamb?!” Dick asked. “Like…small fluffy-” He stopped when he saw the look Bruce was giving him. “And I love it. It’s delicious.” He took another big spoonful to prove his point.

“I’m glad you like it.” 

Bruce genuinely didn’t know how he could convey his thankfulness to Alfred. It was the first time all day Roy hadn’t looked so depressed and he was eating enthusiastically. ‘At least someone was able to do something helpful today.’ He paused in his eating to look at Dick, who was forcing another spoonful into his mouth. “We’re only patrolling for a couple of hours tonight.”

“Awwww,” Dick moaned. “Why?”

“Because…we’re going to cheer Roy up later tonight.” 

“Oh…Ok!” 

Bruce glanced at Roy, but his older ward was still semi-happily eating his soup. ‘Good. We need to keep his mind off everything.’ 

— — 

As Bruce had predicted, Dick had grumbled about the “old” and “weird” movies they wanted to watch, but sat and watched them anyways. Which Bruce was thankful for because he was determined to help Roy feel better. By the time the second movie was over, Dick was passed out on the floor, using Roy as a pillow, and Roy’s head lulled on the cushion of the couch behind him. 

“Roy?” Bruce whispered, hating to wake him up. “Roy.”

“Hmm?” Roy moaned as he opened his eyes. 

“Time for bed.”

“Ok.” Roy waited until Bruce had picked up Dick before standing and following him up the stairs. He wandered into his bedroom and throw himself onto his bed. The Navajo blanket was right where he’d left it after dinner, so he wrapped it around himself. Sleep pulled his head onto the pillows as Bruce came in. “Bruce?”

“Yeah?” Bruce rubbed Roy’s covered arm. 

“Thanks, for trying to help today.”

“You’re welcome. Do- Do you feel any better?”

“…A little.” 

“I’m glad. Sleep well, Roy.”

‘Thanks.” Roy waited until Bruce lee toad the room was dark to close his eyes. The hollow ache in his chest remained, but it had dulled slightly. ‘Maybe my old life is gone…but my new one is starting to look pretty good. I hope you’d agree, Dad. I hope you’d agree.’ 


	4. Captured

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's a little bit of a shift from the others. In case you didn't notice the new tags, there's some torture in this chapter, but nothing more grahpic than what's already been in these stories. And I'm still working on the third story. It's slow going, but I'm getting there. Enjoy!

Arsenal didn’t have time to grimace before Robin leaped over the side of the building. He flipped when he was in mid-air, then dropped into the side-street below. The archer looked back, but Batman still hadn’t rejoined them after their last takedown. ‘He has to be a few blocks away at most,' he thought. Being away from Batman during patrol made Arsenal nervous, given that it had only been four months since he’d been attacked by Green Arrow and it was only his second night back. ‘But he’s close by. He’ll join us in a few minutes.’ Arsenal nodded to himself as he leaped over the side of the roof and dropped onto the small roof of the shop on the first floor of the building. Below him, Robin was flipping over the bad guys. Behind the younger vigilante’s back, one of the bad guys raised their guns. 

“Robin look out!” Arsenal yelled as he shot an arrow. It hit the gut in the hand, causing him to miss his shot. Robin turned around to look at Arsenal as the archer jumped to the ground. He rolled to break his fall, then came up into a shooting position on one knee. An electroshock arrow hit one of the men. In the dim street lights, he could just barely make out the tattoos on their assailants' necks. ‘They’re members of the South Street Gang.’ The drug dealers they’d taken down with Batman a few black prior had been members of the same gang. He ducked under a punch, then swiped the guy's legs out from under him. Arsenal shot another electroshock arrow, then turned his head to tell Robin. “Rob-" Pain exploded in his shoulder and a strangled cry escaped him. Pain shot down his arm and torso, causing his arm to spasm. 

“Arsenal!” Robin yelled. He flipped out of the way as someone tried to shoot him. Through the bodies, he could see Arsenal holding one of his arms close to his body. Blood ran freely down the inured arm. Robin ducked under a punch and popped up to throw one himself. A strangled cry reached his ears. He half-turned his body to see Arsenal was kneeling on the ground. Behind him, Robin saw one of the men holding something small in his hand. Whatever it was, he touched it to Arsenal, then the archer yelled again. His body spasmed and he fell on the ground. “Arsenal!” Robin threw a bat-a-rang but didn’t look to see if it hit its mark. He threw another one and it took out its target, but then something hit his head. Pain spasmed through it and robin stumbled. Trying to regain his balance, he stumbled around a few steps, then another blow hit the side of his head. The young vigilante hit the ground and his hand flew to his comm to radio for Batman. Before he could get a word out though, a boot kicked his face and he grunted. 

“Robin?” Arsenal mumbled, trying to think through the pain. He tried to push himself up, but moving his arm sent shock-waves of pain down his body. There was a lot of voices around him. Hands grabbed at him and pulled him off the ground. Sharp, electrical pain shot through his body again and he let out another scream. When it ended, he slumped down in the grasp of the hands holding him. Vaguely, he could see two men picking Robin up in the same fashion. He tried to stumble toward him, but the hands holding him were too tight. His quiver was removed and he tried to fight against the hold on him. Electric pain zapped at his side and he yelled again. The hands grabbed him and started dragging him. “Le…go…” Whoever was holding him kept pulling him into an alley. Blackness played at the edges of his vision and he groaned. ‘Where am I going?’ 

Fear crept up his insides as he was suddenly thrown forward. Arsenal braced himself, but he didn’t hit the ground, Instead, he hit something that felt like hard plastic. There were ridges on the floor, which suddenly dug into his skin as he was pushed down even more. His hands were pulled behind his back and his gloves were pulled off roughly. As the same was done with his boots, two plastic zip-ties were wrapped around his ankles. Arsenal flinched when each one was tightened and he closed his eyes for a moment. ‘It’s not Ollie, it’s not Ollie, it’s not Ollie,’ he thought on repeat. There was a grunt and someone leaned next to him. Arsenal opened his eyes again. It was so dark that he couldn’t see anything. “Robin?” he whispered. 

“Arsenal?” Robin whispered back. “You ok?”

“Uh-huh. You?”

“Yeah…” A loud bang made them both jump, and then the floor started vibrating and moving. “Van.”

“Looks like it.”

“Batman’ll find us.”

“He better.” Arsenal tried to twist his hands, but they wouldn’t budge. Same deal with his ankles. “Can you move?”

“No,” Robin grunted as they went over a bump and their heads slammed against the hard floor. The van took a hard turn and Robin rolled left into Arsenal. “Sorry.”

“It’s ok.” 

Robin rolled himself away and sighed. “Just…stay calm.”

“I’m tryin’...” They took another sharp turn and this time Arsenal was the one who rolled into Robin. He winced a little as he almost squished his younger brother. “Are you ok?”

“Uh-huh.” 

Arsenal rolled away, then sighed again. He opened his mouth, but the van came to a sudden stop. He and Robin slid forward, hitting their heads on the metal wall at the front. They both groaned. “Robin-" Arsenal didn’t manage to get any other words out before the doors opened again. Someone grabbed Arsenal’s ankles and dragged him out. 

“Get your hands off him!” Robin snapped at the men. 

“You’d better tell your little friend to be quiet,” one of them hissed. The cold barrel of a gun pressed against Arsenal neck. “Or else. We only need one of you, after all.”

“Robin,” Arsenal said. “Robin!” Robin froze as the men were holding him off the ground by his bound arms. “Stop! Be quiet!” 

Robin looked at the gun on his older brother’s neck, then nodded slowly. 

“Good choice, boys,” the man with the gun said. He moved the gun whistled. The men holding Arsenal and Robin dragged them away from the van. They could see the van had stopped inside of some large garage. There was another van, along with machinery and equipment that looked typical in a mechanic’s garage. The man with the gun stopped in front of a metal worktable. “So, which one of you wants to volunteer.” Both Robin and Arsenal stayed silent. “Come on now, hasn’t Batman taught you boys any manners.” 

“I’ll show him some manners,” Robin muttered. 

“Shut up!” Arsenal hissed quietly. 

The man looked at Robin. “Looks like we have a volunteer,” he smiled. He whistled again and nodded his head at the table. The men holding Robin picked him up like the boy weight nothing and carried him toward the table. 

“He doesn’t know anything!” Arsenal said quickly. “He-He's so young. Batman…doesn’t trust him like he trusts me. I-I’m older after all.” 

“Hmmm…you’re right. Plus, you’ll hopefully last longer than the little one.” He whistled again and nodded his head at Arsenal. The men carrying Robin moved to the side as the ones holding on to Arsenal dragged him to the table. 

“Arsenal,” Robin said, fear creeping in on his voice. 

“Quiet! Or I’ll put another bullet in your friend. After all, we only need one.”

Robin glared. “Don’t hurt him.”

“Put the little one somewhere…safe.” 

“Robin!” Arsenal tried to sit up from where he was laying. He saw the men carrying Robin over to a metal container that Arsenal had seen in the back of pick-up trucks. One of the men by the table pushed him back down. “What’re you doing to him?”

"Relax, I’m just keeping him safe. We wouldn’t want something to happen to him.” The man smiled, his yellow teeth showing. “So, Arsenal, I’m David.”

“Nice to meet you…”

“So polite. I’m sure Batman would be proud. Now, I want you to tell me everything Batman knows about me and my friends.”

“Not gonna- gah!” Arsenal gasped as something electrocuted him. 

“I wasn’t finished. Now, you play my game, or I’ll be forced to do something drastic. Like…” He grabbed Arsenal by his hair and lifted his head so he could see the metal container Robin was locked in. “throw your friend into the Gotham harbor. I wonder how well he can swim with his arms and legs tied while he’s in that thing.” Arsenal didn’t say anything. “So, let’s play a game of 20 questions, shall we?” Arsenal glared at him. “How long has Batman been on my tail? Hm?” Arsenal didn’t say anything. David electrocuted him again. Arsenal gasped as the air was knocked out of his lungs and his muscles spasmed. “Come on, how long?”

“That’s…not how…20 questions w- agh!” This time he was electrocuted in the neck. When he could focus again he saw the taser in David’s hand. 

“My game, my rules.” 

“Agh!” 

“How long?!”

“I don’t know!” Which was true. Arsenal had been keeping an eye on things in the Bat Cave during patrols for the last few weeks, but he didn’t know when this new gang had made its way into Batman’s radar. 

“I don’t believe you.” Another zap, this time the taser was held for a lot longer on Arsenal’s neck. 

“I don’t! know!”

“Don’t lie to me, Arsenal.”

“I’m not! Gah!”

“If you’re going to lie, I can always pull Robin out and ask him instead.” 

“N-No! He won’t know either! Honest! AGH!”

“I’m losing patience.” Thankfully, David put the taser down, but then he picked up what looked like a metal stick or probe and some of Arsenals’ relief faded. “Let’s try another question.” Arsenal tried to get up, but one of the men pushed him back onto the table. “How many of my operations does Batman know about? Hm?”

“…I-I don’t know.” Also technically true. No one knew the extent of Batman’s knowledge. 

“Liar.” This time the shock was so much worse. It was like being burned with a hundred tasers. 

“AGGGH!” Arsenal grit his teeth, trying to focus. Behind his mask, he could feel his eyes starting to water. “No knows as much as Batman…”

“Hmmm… That’s true, I suppose. But you if anyone would know, it’d be one of his brats.” 

“Agghhh!” Arsenal nearly spasmed off the metal table, but the men standing on the side caught him and pushed him back into place. He barely had time to breathe before another shock was delivered. “GAAAAH!” His wrists and ankles twisted in the plastic restraints as he tried to flail his arms and move his legs. The zip-ties were already so tight, and now he could feel them cutting through his skin. Blood seeped out, beginning to flow down his feet and hands. He was shocked again and again his limbs tried to move. The zip-ties cut even deeper and more blood flowed free. “He doesn’t tell us everything!”

“But he tells you something. Hm? Tell us one thing Batman knows.”

“…Batman…knows…that the Earth revolves around the sun. AGGGH!”

“I meant something relevant.”

“You live on Earth, don’t you? AGGH!” Arsenal almost spasmed off the table again, but he was caught and shoved back on. “And he knows your gang is on Earth. AGGGH! AGGGH!” The second shock caused him to spasm off the table again, but this time no one caught him. He fell onto the floor with a grunt. The air was knocked from his lungs as he hit his head. The men standing on the side picked him up and put him back on the table. 

“You think you’re really smart, don’t ya, kid?” David shocked him again. “Tell me something Batman knows about my gang.”

“He…knows…” Arsenal thought about his answer for a moment. “It’s a gang. AGGGH!” 

David sighed and put the tip of the shock, which Arsenal could now distinguish as a cattle prod, and placed it under the archer’s right shoulder. Where he’d been shot. “What else?”

“He- He-“ Arsenal’s brain stalled as his heart thudded against his ribs. “Uh…” David’s finger hovered near the button on the prod. “He knows- AHHGGGHHH!” The pain that zapped through the already hurting shoulder was the worst combination of sensations. It was like getting shot all over again and getting electrocuted at the same time. “He knows you sell drugs!”

“Everyone sells drugs!” David pistol-whipped Arsenal with the prod, turning it on as he did so it shocked the teen’s face. “Tell me more.” 

“I-“ Arsenal couldn’t think clearly. Pain fogged his brain to the point that it felt like he’d’ never claw his way out. “I- AGGGGHHH!” When he claimed down slightly, his head fell to the side. He saw one of the men, had an… uncomfortable look on his face. 

“Dave-“ the man said quietly. “Maybe you should let the kid have a break.”

“Don’t go soft on me, Steve-“

“Look at him, Dave! He’s barely even conscious! He can't answer your questions if he’s dead!”

“Hm… I guess you have a point. Put him in one of those. We’ll let this brat rest for a little bit.” 

David walked away and the men grabbed Arsenal. He sagged against their hands limply as he was dragged across the garage. His bare feet twitched slightly against the cold, concrete floor. Arsenal blinked, then realized where he was being dragged to. He tried to fight and resist, but he was too weakened. One of the men grabbed his feet and they shoved him into one of the metal containers. “No! No, please-" The lid was shut and Arsenal’s breathing started increasing. “L-Let me out!” He kicked at the end with his bound feet. “No, no, no, no, no!” Arsenal shook his head as his breathing got faster and even more shallow. ‘I- I need to calm down. I have to…' Unfortunately, his brain wasn't on board with the “calm down” plan. ‘R-Robin… I need to protect Robin…’ 

Arsenal kept his eyes shut. The first grounding technique that came to mind was almost immediately dismissed, so he tried to think of something else. “O-Ok… In… Out…In… Out…” He inhaled and exhaled as he talked. He counted slowly as he inhaled, then held his breath, then exhaled as he kept counting in his head. It helped, slowly but surely. His breathing slowed and evened out. As it did though, the pain started to increase. “It’s ok. It’s ok. It’s ok.” He had to stay calm and help Robin. Keep his brother safe.

Time seemed to drag while he was in the metal box. Arsenal could feel his heart beating against his chest and his breathing always felt like it was on the verge of becoming hyperventilation again. ‘What if they’re hurting Robin right now?’ he wondered. ‘I- I have to protect him! He’s my little brother! I have to protect him!’ He tried to move his arms or legs, but the zip-ties had cut into his skin enough that every slight movement sent waves sharp pain up his arms. ‘I need to find a way to get free-‘ The cover of the container opening made him jump. Before Arsenal could think of any way to try getting away, he was pulled out by two men. As they dragged him back to the metal worktable, he looked around. The metal container where they’d stuck Robin was still in the same place. ‘I hope he’s ok.’ A small grunt of pain escaped past his clenched teeth when the men practically dropped him onto the table. 

David stood over Roy, still holding the cattle prod. “Have you had some time to remember what Batman knows about me?” he asked. 

“I- I already told you- AGGGGHHH!” Arsenal’s whole body tensed as the electric current zapped his muscles. 

“Uh…boss?” one of the men said. “Doncha think he’s screamin’ loud?”

“Then cover his mouth!” David snapped. “It doesn’t take a genius to figures these things out!” 

Arsenal clenched his teeth even harder and turned his face away. A pair of strong hands grabbed his head and held it straight. Another pair tried to pry his jaw open, but the vigilante held it closed with all the strength he could muster. “AAGAAAGGGH!” The sudden pain of being zapped again force him to scream, giving one of the men a chance to shove a dirty rag into his mouth. The bitter taste of oil and gasoline filled Arsenal’s mouth and he tried to spit out the rag, but they forced his mouth closed. A piece of duct tape was put over his mouth, preventing him from dislodging the disgusting rag. He was electrocuted again and he tried to scream through the gag. The pain and frustration at his situation caused Arsenal’s eyes to burn with tears. ‘Batman!’ he thought desperately. If they’d gagged him they weren’t interested in answers anymore. And judging by the way David was subtly moving the cattle prod close to Arsenal’s heart, he had a good idea of where this was going. ‘Batman, where you?!’ Another sharp zap zapped at his side and he nearly fell off the table. ‘Batman-’ 

The glass shattered overhead, raining down on Arsenal and the men that surrounded the table. Arsenal flipped onto his side and curled up into a ball as much as possible to protect himself. His eyes squeezed shut as he heard gunfire and the unmistakable sound of first hitting flesh. The men were all yelling, some in obvious fear, as they were attacked. It only lasted for a couple of minutes. Eventually, everything went quiet, but Arsenal remained tense. Someone touched his cheek and he flinched away. 

“Arsenal,” Batman said softly. Gently. “Arsenal, it’s me. Open your eyes.” Arsenal took a deep breath, then slowly opened his eyes. Batman was leaning down so he was in the teen’s line of vision. “I’m going to untie you. Hold on for a second.” Batman pulled the duct tape off as gently as he could, but Arsenal still winced as the adhesive tried to stick to his face. Once he could open his mouth again, Arsenal tried to use his tongue to get the cloth out. Batman put a steadying hand behind his head, then pulled the cloth from the archer’s mouth. “Stay still for a second.” Batman pulled a bat-a-rang from his belt, then leaned over Arsenal, The younger vigilante winced as the zip-ties tugged a little bit, then fell off. Cautiously, he pulled his hands apart. Batman cut the zip-ties on his ankles as well, then Arsenal snagged his cape. “What is it?” 

“R- Ro...bin…” Arsenal said, his voice hoarse. He pointed earnestly at the metal container where they had locked Robin. Batman ran to it as Arsenal sat up, swinging his legs over the side of the table. A bout of vertigo hit him and his whole world swayed. A cold liquid flowed down his hands and Arsenal looked down. His hands and feet were covered in blood, as was his right side. ‘Oh, right. I was shot earlier.’ He blinked, then fell forward and blacked out before he even hit the ground. 

— — 

The heavy blackness that surrounded Arsenal felt like it was weighing him down. His senses came to him one by one. First, he could smell that he was no longer in the garage. There was a slightly damp, yet antiseptic smell that was almost comforting. Next, he realized he could still taste the oil and gasoline in his mouth, but it was faded. Then he could hear a heart monitor and breathing. Next, the mattress beneath him, a blanket over him. He struggled to open his eyes, finally prying them open after several tries. ‘Medbay,’ he thought as he took in his surroundings. He lifted his hand and saw his wrist was bandaged and the tight feeling on his ankles told him the same thing. A weight on his left arm drew his attention and a relieved smile crossed his lips. Dick was sleeping in the bed with him, holding Roy’s left arm against his body. The boy’s wrists were bandaged as well. 

“Roy?” Bruce asked quietly. 

Roy turned his head to look at him. “Bruce?” he replied, voice still hoarse. “Cave?”

“Yeah, you’re in the cave.” 

“Good…” Roy sighed. “What happened?”

“You fell on the ground and hit your head. Probably just a mild concussion. You were shot in the shoulder on your right side, but Alfred says you’ll be ok. Your wrists and ankles were all cut up and had to be bandaged. You have burns on your body, but thankfully no internal damage.”

“How’s Dick?”

“He’s fine. A little banged up and his wrists and ankles needed some light bandaging too.”

“Oh, good.”

“What happened, Roy?”

“He- He wanted to know what you knew about the gang. I- I didn’t tell him anything, I swear. No matter what he did-“

“It’s ok. I know you didn’t say anything.” The look of fear in Roy’s tired eyes made Bruce wince. “Roy, it’s ok. I’m not mad, and even if you had said something I wouldn’t punish you.”

“You wouldn’t?”

“No. Those men bound and electrocuted you. It had no bearing on you or how loyal you are to me.” Although Bruce felt that Roy shouldn’t feel a need to be loyal either. The pain medicine was still making him sleepy, evidenced by the teen’s eyes closing for a second, then opening them again. 

“How did you find us?”

“When I got to the side street and saw your bow and quiver, I knew something was wrong. A quick search yielded Dick’s belt and your boys’ boots and gloves.” And had promptly filled Bruce with terror. “I went back and grabbed the drug dealer we’d stopped earlier and…convinced him to tell me where his friends could be hanging out. He said David owned a garage but that was it. Unfortunately, their leader, David Thyer owned eight different garages around Gotham, so I had to search them all one by one.” With the boys being in the last one.

“How long were we gone?”

“Six hours.”

“Six?!” Roy struggled to keep his voice down to not wake up Dick. 

“Yes. I’m sorry, Roy. I should’ve been right behind you and found you faster.”

“Yeah…” Roy winced as pain spasmed through his body and he groaned. “Guess I can’t patrol for a while…”

“A few weeks, probably months.” Again. Bruce winced internally. ‘I just spent the last couple months convincing you it was safe to be patrolling with me and then this happens.’ He reached out to rub Roy’s hand, but the teen pulled away. 

“D-Don’t… Please… don’t…”

“Ok, ok. I won’t touch you.” Bruce sighed and rubbed his hair. ‘It feels like vigilante work is starting to become redundant at this point. It feels like I’m just re-traumatizing him when something like this happens.’ He passed for a moment. “Roy…you know that if you don’t want to be a vigilante, you don’t have to, right?”

Roy yawned, which turned into a frown when he finished. “But…you wanted me to after- after what happened with Ollie.”

“I know, but that- that was to prove to you that it was safe and Oliver couldn’t hurt you.” Which was now sounding like a selfish reason, more like a way to make Bruce feel better about what happened than Roy. “If you don’t want to, you don’t have to. You understand that, right, Roy?”

For a few, long few moments Roy stared at his hands, clearly thinking. “…I know…” he said eventually. “I know I don’t have to…but I want to.”

“Even when something like this happens?”

“Well…getting captured isn’t fun, but… I like helping people, Bruce. I like making them feel safe. Like- Like they can count on me. I felt so weak and alone for so long that I- I want to this. I have to.”

“But if it’s making your PTSD worse, and not better-”

“I’m better… Kind of…” Roy swallowed and grimaced in pain again. “If I wanted to stop I would but…I love being Arsenal.”

‘What a great, kid. He deserves so much better than what life has been giving him,’ Bruce thought as he administered some pain medicine for Roy. “As long as you want to be Arsenal.”

“Mhm…” Roy struggled to keep his eyes open.

“Go to sleep, Roy. You need it.” 

Roy yawned again and his eyes slipped closed. “Ok, Bruce. Thanks for saving us.”

Bruce tried to swallow his guilt as he pulled the blanket up more around Roy and Dick. “Of course.” He’d always do his best to protect Roy. Even if he wasn’t successful in the end.


	5. Rescue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Glad I finally finished this one. I'm making great progress on the third story. Hoping to have it ready to be posted by Christmas. Until then, enjoy!

“Why is The Catcher in the Rye so boring?” Roy muttered as he turned the page of his latest English assignment. Normally he liked the reading part of his reading assignments because it included discussing the book with Alfred. This book though was the most boring book he’d ever read. “How many more pages?” He flipped through the book and the small block of pages in his hand made him groan. “That’s too many.” Just as he turned back to his book, he heard Alfred walk briskly into the dining room. “I’m still reading, Alf-“

“I need you to go downstairs, Master Roy,” Alfred instructed. 

“Downstairs, why?”

“I’m afraid there’s been a… Something’s happened.”

“What happened?”

“Master Dick has been kidnapped.”

“What?!” Roy jumped to his feet as fear shot through him. “He was kidnapped?! How?!”

“He was lured away during a field trip to the Gotham Art Museum today.”

‘Lured?’ Roy wondered. ‘He says it like Dick just walked off with a stranger, but he’s smarter than that.’ He swallowed. “Where’s Bruce?”

“Master Bruce is on his way home, and several officers from the Gotham police are on their way as well. Which is why we need you downstairs.”

“Right.” Roy quickly gathered his schoolwork and followed Alfred to the study. “How do they already know what happened? Did one of Dick’s teachers say something?”

“Partly, but the kidnapper called Master Bruce looking for a ransom.”

“Oh…” Another flash of fear went through Roy as he entered the grandfather clock. “Can I help?”

“The best thing you can do is stay down here so we can work with the Gotham police.” 

“O- Ok.” Roy heard the entrance being closed and assumed it was locked as he made his way down the stairs. ‘I have to find a way to help,’ he thought. When he got down into the cave, he ran straight to the computer. ‘I don’t care what Alfred said, I have to save Dick.’ The first thing he did was pull up the footage of the security cameras inside the Manor. “I don’t know what I can do, but I have to try something.” Thankfully, it didn’t take long for the police to arrive, along with Bruce. The stressed and anxious look on his face made Roy frown. “I have to help.” 

“Mr. Wayne, we need you to tell us everything you know,” one of the officers said. 

Bruce seemed to sigh a bit. “I got a call an hour ago,” he said quietly, voice tense and restrained. “It was Dick. I was confused because he’d normally call my office phone and not my cell. He sounded scared when he said my name, then the kidnapper took over. He said he wanted $25,000.00 or he’d kill Dick.”

‘$25,000.00?!’ Roy thought. ‘Why so much?!’ While he knew Bruce was rich and that wouldn’t difficult for him to get the money, Roy wasn’t willing to wait. As far as he was concerned, every second Dick was with the kidnappers was a second too many. “Ok. Let's start with the museum.” Thanks to his vigilante work, Roy knew they had security cameras in that particular museum; and a lot of them. He wasn’t nearly as skilled with Dick on a computer, but that wasn’t going to stop him. He put his last six months of computer training to work and used a program in the Bat-computer to hack into the museum security cameras. ‘Dick’s right,’ he thought as he slowly, but surely, hacked his way into the database of footage. ‘Everything going digital is the best.’ 

It didn’t take him long to find the footage of his brother on his field trip. Dick was looking at some paintings, hands in his pockets and visibly bored. Roy watched the footage play out. For several minutes, Dick just walked from painting to painting, taking a few seconds to observe each of them. At one point, Dick wandered into a new room to continue looking at the paintings. It was then that something happened. 

A man approached Dick and asked him a question. Roy leaned forward as Dick appeared to answer the question and pointed to something in the pamphlet in the man’s hands. Whatever answer he gave didn’t seem to satisfy the man though. He shook his head and looked even more confused. Being the patient person he was, Dick simply smiled and said something again. But the man still shook his head; seemingly more confused. Dick shrugged, then gestured toward another doorway on the other side of the large room. The man nodded and followed Dick toward the doorway. 

“No…” Roy whispered. “No, Dick…”

Unfortunately, his brother was unable to hear him and he left with the man. Because Dick’s back was turned to the man, he didn’t see him pull a knife out of his pocket. Roy’s heart rate sped up as he watched the man put the knife against Dick’s side and his free hand settled on the boy’s shoulder. There was no way for Roy to deduce what was being said due to the lack of sound on the cameras, however, he assumed it was some kind of a threat because the man walked Dick out of the room. Roy followed as best he could, but the man led Dick down every hall that had the least cameras and stuck to walking near walls where the cameras had a difficult time picking up the angles. The best Roy could do was to catch him leading Dick out a side door marked ‘Employees Only’ before they disappeared. He quickly checked for parking lot cameras, but they weren’t there. 

Roy sat back in the chair. The sight of someone holding a knife against his younger brother’s back when he was a civilian, no suit or utility belt available, terrified Roy. But he squashed his fear down and took a deep breath. ‘Ok,’ he thought. ‘The guy’s familiar with the layout. He knew where to walk to avoid most of the cameras, or at least obstruct their views.’ How did he know the layout so well? ‘And where did he take Dick if he didn’t take him the parking lot?’ Roy went searching for some city records and found a map of the museum. Nothing stood out to him immediately as suspicious. “There’s only the one parking lot. And it’s in a busy area of the city, so how did he get-” Roy stopped and leaned closer to the giant screen. 

In the top right-hand corner, squeezed in a back part of the museum shaped-like a U was unmarked. “Hm…” He quickly pulled the blueprints he’d found in the city records, then located that spot. “It’s an employee parking lot! It looks like there are no cameras there, and they have to drive through that narrow road to get to the main road. That’s how they got Dick out of there.” Which meant Dick and to have been kidnapped by one of the employees at the museum. 

This victory turned out to be incredibly small though because Roy quickly figured out there were a lot of employees at this museum. Getting into the database of employees was difficult, and it took way more time than Roy thought he had, but he did manage it. He re-wound the security footage of the Dick’s kidnapping until he had the best shot of the man’s face he could manage. It wasn’t easy with him looking at the ground, but Roy was able to get a half-decent picture of his face. Methodically, Roy went through the employee database to find the man. Unfortunately, he wasn’t there. Roy sighed in frustration. “What now?” He sat back in the chair and absent-mindedly swiveled back and forth. “What now? If he’s not an employee… Maybe he knows an employee?” Roy sat up. “That’s…not a bad idea. He could be friends or partners with one of the employees. How do I figure out which one?

“I could always go to the museum.” Roy nodded, then changed into his suit. When he was in everything except his mask, he went back to the computer. As quickly as possible, he put the information he’d gathered so far onto his holo-glove. Then he snagged a list of all the employees that had been working that day. 

Arsenal nodded to himself, then put his mask on as he headed for his bike. ‘I’m coming for you, Dick. Just hold on. I’m coming.’ 

— — 

When Arsenal got to the museum, there was still a ton of police cars outside. He left his bike on the back wall of the museum. There was a gate in front of the entrance to the employee parking lot. Arsenal snuck over and examined it. ‘Looks like they have to show an ID to get in, but not to get out.’ He eyed the sensors on top of the gate. ‘Yeah, you don’t need an ID to get out.’ He looked around, then ran at the opposite wall. There was half a foot of wall perpendicular to the gate. Arsenal was able to jump, then push off the wall to grab the top of the gate. Trying not to lose his momentum, he swung himself over, then landed on the other side. He froze for a moment, then ran down the narrow pathway. It was twenty feet before he stepped out into the employee parking lot. He ran to the first car and crouched down next to it. 

‘Ok,’ he thought as he activated his holo-glove. ‘The police said that none of the employees were allowed to leave and all of them are accounted for. So let’s see if anyone is missing a car.’ He scanned the license plate of the car he crouched by, then ran it through the DMV database to match it to an employee. When he had a match, he deleted that employee from his list, then snuck over to the next car. It took far longer than he wanted to get through the entire lot. It had been over an hour by the time he reached the last one. ‘This is taking so long, I have to get to Dick!’ Arsenal snuck back over to the wall so he could hide in a shadow. ‘Who’s left?’ He looked at his list. 

Max Randall. 

“Ok, Mr. Randall…” A few keystrokes later he frowned. “No DMV record at all. No driver’s license, not even a car.” So how had he gotten to work if he didn’t have a car? It took Arsenal ten minutes to get into the employee records and find Randall’s address. “4C, Greenwald Street. I think I should visit him.” Sneaking out of the employee parking lot wasn’t as hard as sneaking in. Once Arsenal landed safely on the other side, he sprinted to his bike and took off toward the address. ‘If he’s at his apartment, I might be able to use him to find Dick.’ But…how? The very thought of using excessive force made Roy’s stomach churn. Batman used violence to get answers when he deemed it necessary, and though it wasn’t as brutal as some of the things Oliver had done to get answers he wanted, the memories were too similar for him to deal with. ‘I don’t want to have to do that.’ But if it was between that and saving his brother's life? Arsenal swallowed and squeezed the handlebars of his bike as he skirted down another narrow backstreet. ‘I just hope it won’t come to that.’ He parked in an alley that was barely wide enough for him to get through. 

The building in question was older, so it was made of brick and only five stories. There were windows on every level, so he grabbed the windowsill of the first window and started climbing. Using the edges of the windows with his feet, he climbed up the outside of the building. ‘Which one is Max Randall’s…?’ The best thing he could do for the moment seemed to be choosing a random apartment on the fourth floor and hoping for success. Which is exactly what he did. He slid a window open and slipped into a bedroom. Thankfully, no one was home, so he was able to sneak through. It wasn’t Randall’s apartment, so Arsenal moved on. 

When he entered the second apartment, there was no one in the bedroom. Arsenal crept over to the door and waited a few seconds, holding his breath. There were no sounds on the other side. He opened it slowly and silently, but the hall outside was empty. Arsenal held his breath as he crept down the hall. The closer he got to a doorway though, he began to hear a voice. He stopped right by the doorway and crouched down. 

“Yeah, yeah. Jesus, I know, Max,” the man said. “Will you shut your freaking mouth?! God.” 

‘Max Randall…?’ Arsenal thought hopefully, his spirits lifting a little. 

“I’m heading back to you soon. Don’t worry, its not in the news or anything. The police aren’t even staking out the apartment, so they haven’t pinned it on us yet.” 

‘He’s talking to Max Randall.’ 

“Yeah, I’m heading back now. The kid still breathing? Good. Wayne won’t give us anything if he’s not.” 

Arsenal crept backward as silently as possible until he made it back to the bedroom. As soon as he made it back inside, it took every ounce of self-control in his body to creep back to the window, then back outside and down the side of the building. “I found them…” He almost smiled in relief. “I just have to follow him to Dick.” Arsenal grabbed the handlebars of his bike and rolled it to the back of the building. He was rewarded with a small parking lot with the very van he’d been looking for. Taking a deep breath, he moved back until he was hidden by the shadows, but could see the entrance to the parking lot. It was agonizing to wait, knowing that he was one tail away from finding his brother, but Arsenal forced himself to be patient. He’d come so far and he couldn’t afford to blow it now. Dick was counting on him. 

Thankfully, his patience was rewarded 10 minutes later when Randall’s associate left the building, then got into a van. Despite his eagerness to get to his brother, Arsenal waited until the van left the parking lot before following. He kept at least a block away, trying not to make it seem obvious that he was following. The van avoided all major roads, which made it easier for the vigilante to follow. A couple of times he ducked down alleys to be sure he wasn’t seen. But the van continued, so he was pretty sure he wasn’t being seen. 

Eventually, the van stopped and Arsenal stopped his bike in an alley across the street. The building the man entered looked like an old store, but the windows were boarded up and the sign proclaiming ‘Electronics!’ was so faded it was difficult to make out. Arsenal looked around. The street was deserted, with only a few people standing around, but none who seemed at all interested in the abandoned store. ‘Ok. Let’s do this.’ First thing he had to do was get a visual on Dick. Then he could call the police and take down the kidnappers. He poked his head out for a second, then darted across the street. Once he was certain he didn’t get spotted, he took a grapple arrow from his quiver and shot it at the roof. He pulled himself up, then waited for another second to see if someone spotted him. So he lowered himself down onto a windowsill and gently opened a window. He climbed inside, using the ceiling to keep himself steady. 

In the room below, he could see two men, one with a gun, and Dick. The boy was tied to a chair and blindfolded, seemingly unharmed. It was difficult to tell from a distance, but there was no large puddle of blood, so Arsenal was pretty sure he was ok. He nodded to himself, then climbed back out the window and pulled himself back onto the roof. He called 911 on his holo-glove. 

“Dick Grayson is being held in an abandoned electronics store on West Grove Ave. Send the police.” The program on his glove disguised his voice so he didn’t have to worry about the operator hearing him. He closed the program, then climbed back in through the window. He kept one hand pressed firmly against the ceiling to keep himself steady as he pulled his bow out. Metal rods were running across the top of the room, so he jumped over to them, supporting his weight on his bow. 

“You certain the cops aren’t coming?” Randall asked, looking around like the GCPD would just jump out from behind a box or something.

‘But he still won’t look up,’ Arsenal thought with a smirk. 

“Relax,” the other man said. “Will you chill, Max? I told you, the cops aren’t on to us and its daytime out, so it's not like they can put up the signal to call in the Bat.” 

“That’s what you think!” Dick piped up unhelpfully. 

“Shut up!” 

Anger burned through Arsenal as the second man backhanded Dick. 

“I say we just kill him now,” Randall said, cocking the gun and putting the barrel against Dick’s head. 

“No! We wait until Wayne pays the ransom. I told you, he won’t pay if the kid’s a corpse!”

‘They’re going to kill him!’ Arsenal sighed. He was going to wait for the cops to get closer, but not while his brother’s life was danger. So, he took a deep breath, then let his right hand drop his bow. As soon as he was falling, Arsenal pulled an arrow from his quiver. He dropped to the ground, sending a jolt of pain through his legs, even as he somersaulted to break his fall. 

“What the hell?!” Randall stared at him in shock for a moment, but his partner didn’t hesitate. 

The second man ran at Arsenal, who rolled backward and onto his feet. He ducked under a fist and slammed his bow into the man’s chest. ‘Guy's a little more solid than I hoped,’ the vigilante thought as the man landed a lucky punch on his face. Arsenal stumbled back a few steps, then threw a punch in return. He followed with another punch, then smacked his bow into the man’s neck. It hit right in his windpipe and sent the man stumbling back, clutching his throat. Arsenal took the opportunity to kick him in the face. As soon as the man dropped to the ground, Arsenal pulled an arrow from his quiver and turned to Randall. His heart stuttered in his chest. 

“Don’t even think about it!” The gun was still pressed against Dick’s head, but Randall’s hand was shaking. “Drop it, kid.”

“You should drop the gun,” Arsenal countered. 

“I’m thinking you care about keeping this kid alive.” He pressed the gun even harder against Dick’s head. 

“You don’t want to kill him.” 

“You don’t know me!”

“Listen…dude… If you kill him… I’ll have to kill you.” Arsenal’s stomach twisted and from the corner of his eye, he saw Dick stiffen in surprise. 

“You- You won’t kill me! The Bat- Everyone knows the Bat doesn’t kill!”

“Do I look like the Bat to you?” Arsenal took a calculated risk and shot his arrow so it just grazed the front of Randall’s nose. 

The man yelped and shot a bullet the ceiling. He had the gun pointed back at Dick’s head again within a second, but when he looked at the vigilante another arrow was already pointed at him. Randall swallowed as his hand shook even more. 

“I don’t miss. I hit exactly where I mean to. Now drop the gun or I’ll drop you.” There was a moment of hesitation before Randall slowly lowered his weapon. Arsenal shot an arrow through his arm, making Randall drop the gun completely. 

“Gah! You said you wouldn’t kill me!”

“I’m not.” Arsenal stowed his bow on his back as he knelt beside Randall. A fist swung at him, so he bent backward to avoid it. He quickly restrained Randall’s hands, eliciting a cry of pain form the man. “Oh relax.” Arsenal took some first aid supplies from one of his pouches and put a bandage around the arrow. “The police will be here soon. They’ll take you to the hospital. It’s not a serious wound. Just take deep breaths." Arsenal turned to Dick and took the blindfold off his brother. He crouched down so he could see the boy’s bright, but eyes. “You ok?”

“Yeah…” Dick sighed. He frowned at the large bruise that was already darkening on the side of Roy’s face. “Are you oK?”

“I’m fine.” Other than how sore his face was and the pain in his ankle. “Hold still while I get the ropes off.” 

“Ok.” 

Arsenal went around to the back f the chair and quickly used an arrow to cut the ropes off. “The police should be here-“ He didn’t even get a chance to finish his sentence before he heard the police cars. “Looks like that’s them. Come on.” 

Dick almost grimaced when he saw that Arsenal was limping. ‘The fall must’ve hurt him.’ They reached the door and he opened it, then Arsenal stuck his hands out. 

“Don’t shoot!” he shouted. “It’s Arsenal!” He waited a moment, then heard Commissioner Gordon. 

“Stand down!” Gordon yelled. “Lower your weapons!”

Arsenal nodded lead Dick out of the electronics store. “The two men responsible are inside, Commissioner. One of them needs medical attention.”  
“You ok, Dick?” 

“Mhm,” Dick nodded. “Arsenal saved me.”  
“Looks like he did. Batman or Robin around?”

“No, they’re…preoccupied. It’s just me.”

“Oh, well… Good job. Nice work today.”

“Thank you, Commissioner.” Arsenal looked down Dick. “…Stay out of trouble. Got it?”

“I’ll try,” Dick smiled. “Thanks, Arsenal.” He hugged the vigilante, who pushed him away gently. 

“You probably shouldn’t hug strangers.” Arsenal nodded to Commissioner Gordon, then ran down the alley between the buildings. When he got to the backstreet he doubled-back to the alley where he’d stashed his bike. ‘I saved Dick. Hopefully, he’ll be home by the time I get there.’ 

— —

By the time Roy was home and changed, Dick was there to meet him. As soon as the teen limped into view, the boy ran over and gave him such a big hug he almost fell over. “Good to see you too.” 

“You’re hurt,” Bruce said, eyes immediately catching the bruise on Roy’s face. It stretched from the bottom of his ear to his jaw and a fist was clearly outlined on the edges. 

“Yeah… One of them had a really hard punch.”

“You shouldn’t have gone out alone. Without telling anyone.”

“But he saved me!” Dick objected, He moved to Roy’s side and put an arm around his shoulders so he could support the teen. “They were gonna kill me, Bruce! Roy saved me!”

“While almost getting himself killed-“

“He did good!” Dick glared at Bruce as he helped Roy over to the med-bay. “Even Commissioner Gordon said so.” He helped Roy onto an examination table, then turned around to cross his arms and glowered at Bruce. “Tell him he did a good job.” 

Bruce blinked, then looked at Alfred for help, but the other man was busy attending to Roy. He looked back at Dick, who was glaring at him. Brice sighed. “Fine. Roy, despite going out by yourself and putting your life in unnecessary danger without any backup…you did good.”

“Thanks…” Roy replied quietly. He flinched as Alfred gently touched the bruise. “I don’t think anything’s broken, Alf.”  
“I agree,” Alfred nodded. “Your ankle is most likely sprained. Bed rest for two days and no extracurriculars for a week. Understand?”

“Understood.” 

“I’ll get a brace for you.” 

“Alfred, does getting kidnapped mean I get some extra dessert tonight?” Dick asked hopefully. 

“We shall see, Master Dick.” 

“What about Roy? He rescued me and got hurt. That’s gotta be like…double cookies! Right, Roy? Roy?” Dick frowned when he realized Roy wasn’t listening. He wasn’t even looking at him. “Roy?” No response.

“Roy?” Bruce prompted gently. “Everything ok?” When that didn’t work, he cleared his throat. “Alfred, can you take Dick upstairs?”

“Certainly, sir,” Alfred said. “Come along, young sir. If you want double cookies tonight than you shall have to help prepare them.”

“Ok, but I’m putting all the chocolate chips in,” Dick said as he followed Alfred out of the medbay. 

“I’d expect nothing less.” 

Once they were alone, Bruce took a step closer to Roy. “What’s wrong, Roy? Did- Did something happen today?”

“…Kind of…” Roy said quietly. 

“What was it?” When Roy didn’t say anything for a minute Bruce’s blood pressure went up. “I can’t help if you don’t tell me.” 

Roy looked at his hands and clenched them into fists. “Am I- Bruce, am I going to be like- like…Ollie?”

“What- Of course not! Roy, why would you even think that?!”

“Because- Because earlier, Randall…the guy who took Dick- He had a gun to Dick’s head and I didn’t know what else to do so I- I told him if he killed Dick I’d kill him.” Roy clenched his fists even tighter. “I shot an arrow right past his face to scare him but0 Bit swear the was it! I wasn’t going to kill him!”

“Ok, ok. I believe you.”

“I didn’t- I wouldn’t-“

Bruce stepped closer when Roy started hyperventilating. “Roy- Roy, breathe. In… Out… In… Out…” He waited until Roy’s breathing was under control before he came closer. “Roy… It’s ok. It’s-“

“It's not! I- I threatened to kill him! Its what Ollie would’ve done! Bruce, I don’t want to be like him! I don’t!”

“Roy. Roy, breath. Relax. You’re not, ok?”

“But-“

“No buts. There is a big difference between you and Oliver. Did you worry at all that you might get shot when you were talking that guy down from shooting Dick?”

“…No.”

“Did you think at all about how you might get hurt?”

“….No?”

“What did you think about?”

“I thought about Dick. About he’s my brother and I wanted to save him. That I had to do something because I can’t just sit back and let something bad happen to him.” 

“You did what you did because you love Dick. You were only thinking about him. Oliver only thinks about himself. You did what you had to do to diffuse a dangerous situation and save someone you care about. That’s a long, long way from what Oliver does.”

Roy was quiet for a few seconds. “You think so?”

“Of course.” Bruce put a hand on his should (and was pleasantly surprised when the teen didn’t pull away). “And I meant what I said. I’m proud of how you saved Dick by yourself today. You did a good job. But don’t even go out by yourself and put your life in danger like that again. Got it?”

“I got it.” Roy nodded, then smiled a little. “Thanks, Bruce.”

“You’re welcome. I’ll help you upstairs and get you settled on the couch.”

“Sounds good.” Roy let Bruce put his arm around him and hopped off the examination table. ‘As long as Dick is safe. That's’ all that matters.’


	6. Narratives

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year! 
> 
> So this started as a scene I cut from Shadow of an Arrow. During my research of CBFT (the type of therapy Roy undergoes in the story) I discovered there was a phase where not only did the child have to write a trauma narrative about what happened and how they felt, but that they had to read it to their parent/caregiver. Thus, the idea for this one-shot was born. Enjoy.

Dinah watched Roy as he fidgeted in his seat, then at Bruce. She gave him a look and he slowly removed his cowl. “Please sit, Bruce,” she said. The three of them were arranged in a triangle shape, with Bruce and Roy across from each other and her at the point. As soon as Bruce was sitting, she cleared her throat a little. “Ok, so, I’m sure you both remember why we’re here, but I’ll go over it again so everyone is on the same page. Bruce, an important part of Roy’s therapy has been wiring trauma narratives. These are stories he has written, choosing instances over the two years he was abused to talk about. We’ve been working on them over the last few weeks. Roy, do you want to tell Bruce what the process of writing the trauma narratives has involved?”

“Uh… Sure,” Roy replied quietly. “So, at first, I had to write the facts. You know…just what happened. Then I had to re-write it with what I was felt when everything happened. And finally, I had to add some kind of conclusion.”

“And what is the point of writing trauma narratives?”

“To help me process my memories associated with my traumas.”

“And now that we’ve been discussing them, it’s time for you to share them with Bruce. Can you tell him why this is an important step?”

Roy took a deep breath before he started talking. “It’s important because Bruce is my caregiver, so he needs to understand my traumas and how they affect me.”

“Very good. So, Bruce, all you have to do is listen to Roy as he reads his trauma narratives to you. Understand?”

“I understand,” Bruce nodded. While Roy had spent the last two months writing these trauma narratives, Bruce had been preparing for this meeting in his own way. Each week, Dinah had read the trauma narratives to him, sometimes several times in one meeting, so he would be ready for this. She’d emphasized it was important for Bruce not to react during this. All he had to do was listen, let Roy talk, and provided praise or support where needed. 

“Ok. You can start whenever you’re ready, Roy.” 

Roy nodded, then looked down at his papers. “Ok, um… I had to do these in chronological order, starting with the first time I remember being abused.” He paused for a moment before he started talking again. “I was 12. I’d been living with Oliver for one month. He was mad that I was having a hard time learning something in my training. I was sitting on the couch because Ollie was yelling at me. He was pacing behind the couch, telling me that I was stupid and incompetent. I felt really scared and upset because I wanted to make him happy. Then he started saying that he shouldn’t be surprised because I was raised by someone stupid.” Roy had to stop for a moment to take a deep breath. “He started saying that Brave Bow had been just as stupid and incompetent. I felt really mad because Brave Bow had been my dad and he’d been a good dad. He was really smart and I didn’t like Oliver talking about him like that. So, I told Oliver to shut up.” A shiver went down Roy’s spine. 

“Ollie was really quiet after that. Then he grabbed my hair and dragged me over the back of the couch.” His hands started shaking a little bit. “Ollie dropped me on the floor, then started punching me and kicking me. Then he grabbed my shirt and pulled it off my body. He put me on my knees and told me to stay put. I got really scared because I couldn’t see what he was doing, but I knew it would be really bad. I was terrified. Then he started hitting me with his belt. I tried to crawl away, but then he grabbed my hair again and dragged me back. He told me that if I tried to move again the he’d lock me in the smallest closet in the mansion for a week with no food.” Roy closed his eyes for a second and took several deep breaths. “I stayed there while he hit me with his belt until my back started bleeding. It hurt a lot and I was crying. When he stopped he told me to never say that again and never disrespect him again.” 

For a moment, Bruce was unbelievably grateful for the chance to hear this story beforehand so he could control his reaction. He still had to take a deep breath before speaking though. “Thank you for sharing that with me, Roy,” he said. “I understand it was very hard for you.” 

“Do- Do you think I was being disrespectful to him?”

“No, I don’t. Oliver made it clear by his words that he didn’t deserve your respect. And even if you had disrespected him, that didn’t justify the way he treated you.” He was careful not to use the word “discipline” since it didn’t come close to describing Oliver’s actions. 

Roy nodded then moved on to the next paper. “The night after my first patrol, I couldn’t sleep. I kept thinking about the people Oliver had killed. How some of them had begged for mercy or tried to reason with him. I hated that I couldn’t help any of them. Watching them…it was the first time I ever saw anyone die. It was horrible, but when I tried to tell Oliver after patrol, he just told me I was being dumb. That I would get used to it, but that just made me feel worse. I didn’t want to get used to it. I wanted him to stop! When I finally got to sleep, I had a nightmare. I saw all the people Oliver had killed that night and- and they kept coming after me. They blamed me for their deaths by not stopping him and tried to kill me. I was so upset when I woke up that I went to find Oliver. I- I went into his bedroom and woke him, but…he just got mad at me. He slapped me for waking him up and coming into his bedroom. When I tried to explain that I was just really scared, he slapped me again and told me to stop being so weak or he’d give me something to really cry about. So, I went back to my room and hid under the bed, so the dead people couldn’t find me. 

“I feel so alone and scared because Oliver didn’t care that I was so upset. I didn’t understand why he didn’t seem to care. I didn’t really sleep that night, which meant I was too tired to properly do my school work or focus on patrol. Oliver ended up beating me for that too, which felt really unfair because I didn’t think it was my fault. In the end, though, I kept telling myself it was my fault because if I was just tougher and not such a wimp, then he wouldn’t be so hard on me. It was all really confusing. Now though, I know I can talk about my nightmares with Bruce, Alfred, or Dick and I know I won’t get in trouble. I also don’t have to watch people be killed anymore, which makes me happy. I also know that Oliver was in the wrong for reacting the way he did and I didn’t deserve for him to threaten or beat me for what happened.” 

Bruce swallowed. “I’m sorry that happened to you, Roy. You had every right to be uncomfortable and upset with Oliver killing people. I’m also relieved that you’re comfortable enough with us to talk about your nightmares.”

“Do you think there was anything I could’ve done to stop it?” 

It made Bruce sad that he didn’t have to ask what Roy meant. “No, I don’t. Oliver does things his way and he doesn’t care what anyone else thinks about it. And none of that is your fault.” 

Roy nodded. “Thanks. Uh…” He switched to the next page and continued on. 

‘God, I wish I could kill Oliver,’ Bruce thought as Roy went over the night he’d let the teenaged boy escape with his life. It almost physically hurt to think about Roy alone with that man, watching someone die for the first time at the age of 12 and being told he was wrong for being upset over it. ‘What if we hadn’t gotten him away? What kind of emotional damage would’ve been inflicted on him then?’ When Roy finished, Bruce reiterated what he’d already said on the subject. That Roy was right to let that boy live. 

“I- I know I already said it feels what I did was pointless but…do you think it was stupid? I mean…I knew Oliver would get mad if I let him go, but I still did it. Wasn’t I just…asking for him to hit me?”

“No, Roy. No matter what you did, you were never asking for him to hit you. While angering him may not have been the…wisest decision, it was a brave one. You stood up for what you believed in, even when it was hard. That was extremely brave, especially for someone so young.”

“…Thanks.” Roy went to the next story, which was about the time he’d tried to run away after only six months of living with Oliver. Recounting this particular event wasn’t as tough as the others because it had already been dissected multiple times due to it causing many nightmares on its own. Still, his heart rate picked up a little as he read. He very deliberately didn’t look at Bruce’s face, despite having already told him this story. The memory of it was still terrifying. No matter how many times he’d had to dissect it, the fear of how angry Oliver had been lingered in his mind. It made his heart pound even farther and anxiety buzzed under his skin even more. When he finished, he still didn’t make eye contact with Bruce, which the man didn’t miss.

“I’m so sorry that happened, Roy. You were well within your rights to try and get away from Oliver.” Even if, deep down, Bruce knew that running away would’ve put Roy at risk of even more victimization. Which didn’t even include the possibility of what Oliver would’ve done after tracking Roy down and dragging him back. (Because no matter how smart or determined Roy was, even at 12, there would’ve only been so much he could’ve done against someone like Oliver.) 

“I just… I really wanted to be safe, and I didn’t think I’d be safe with Oliver.” 

“I know.”

“But…I also wonder if getting caught was better because I wouldn’t have survived on my own.” 

“Roy, you need to remember you were a child. You were doing the best you could in a horrible situation. Try to remember that.”

“I- I'll try.” The next one jumped ahead a year or so. “One time, Oliver was…bored, I guess? Anyway, he hid my arm guard and I didn’t know where it was. I kept asking him, but he acted like he didn’t do anything to it. He kept saying I must’ve lost it and was threatening to hurt me if I didn’t find it. I kept searching and searching, but couldn’t find it. I was so confused because I knew I had put it away, but it wasn’t where I expected it to be. And Oliver kept making me patrol for the two nights I didn’t have it. I got a really bad sore on my arm, but he hit me if my aim was off because of the pain. Eventually, I realized there was one place in the mansion where I hadn’t looked and that was in Oliver’s room. I was so scared because I knew he’d be angry if I went in there, but I didn’t know what else to do. So I went in and found my arm guard, but then Oliver beat me for going into his room. I felt so helpless because I didn’t want to have the sores on my arm from my bowstring, but I didn’t want Oliver to beat me either. Now though, all I have from the incident is a small scar and I have multiple arm guards so I don’t have to worry if one goes missing.” 

Again, Bruce had to take several deep breaths before he spoke. “I’m sorry that Oliver put you in that position, Roy. It was cruel and wrong of him to do that.” 

“I thought so too, you know, at the time.” And after as well. Roy went to the next page. “When I was 13, I tried to give up on my school work. Oliver always told me I was stupid and incapable of doing it. So, one day I decided to just not do my school work. I didn’t feel like there was any point since I was so dumb. But when Oliver got home and discovered I didn’t do my homework…he got really mad. He started beating me, then dragged me to his bedroom and locked me in the trunk. He said I could only come out when I’d decided to start doing my school work again. I was so scared because I hated it in there. I had to stay there for a whole day before he let me out. When he did, Oliver asked if I’d learned my lesson. I- I was really confused because I didn’t think he was so concerned about my school work because he was always calling me stupid and saying I couldn’t do anything. When I asked him though, he just started strangling me until I apologized. After that, I always did my school work, even when it felt pointless.

“Now though, I know that I’m not stupid and I want to do my school work. And not just out of fear like with Oliver. I like doing my school work. I also don’t have to worry about being hit or locked in a trunk for not doing it.” 

“You’re not stupid, Roy. And I’m glad you’re coming to that realization. Oliver shouldn’t have made you feel like you’re stupid, or hurt you because you gave up on learning.” Especially since he was the one who made Roy feel like that was his only solution.

“I know that I’m not stupid, but… Do you think that I might be…you know, just a little stupid for doing something that would upset Oliver?”

Bruce took a deep breath. “No, Roy. I don’t think that. It is absolutely not your fault that Oliver chose to hurt you. It’s no wonder you became so despondent toward school work considering how he kept insulting you.” 

“Thanks…” Roy shuffled his papers again, then paused when he saw the next page he’d come to. “Uh… Can- Can we take a break for a moment? Please?”

“Of course,” Dinah answered before Bruce could say anything. “Why don’t you step outside for 5 minutes?” 

“Thanks.” Before he could change his mind, Roy darted out of the room and into the hall. Thankfully, there were no Justice League members in the hall to see him collapse against the wall. His breaths came in short gasps as tremors ran down his hands and his heart pounding in his chest. ‘Breathe…’ Roy thought as he clenched his hands into fists to try and stop the shaking. ‘I need to breathe…’ 

“Inhale, one, two, three, four,” Dinah said gently from beside Roy. She nodded as he did it. “Now hold it, one, two, three, four, five, six, seven. Now exhale, one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight. Again. Inhale, one, two, three, four-” She kept guiding Roy through his breathing exercises for a couple of minutes. When he was noticeably calmer and less tense, she crushed even lower, closer to his level. “Is everything ok?”

Roy shrugged. “I- I don’t know. I mean… I know we’ve already talked through this stuff already and- and it’s important that I tell Bruce. You know, I get that stuff.”

“But…” 

“But…I still don’t like to talk about it.” Roy looked down and started playing with his fingers. “I- I can’t stop the feeling of- of…scared, I guess, that I feel when I talk about everything that happened. Ollie…he always got so angry at the idea of me telling someone. Even though there was no one to tell. He would always threaten to- to kill me or leave me on the streets to die if I told.” 

“Oliver can’t hurt you now, Roy. You’re safe with the League.” 

Roy shook his head slowly, almost sadly. “But he did hurt me. He- He found me in Gotham even after Batman kept telling me over and over again that he wouldn’t.” After Bruce had promised Oliver would never touch him again. “He can still find me again.”

“The League has taken extra precautions this time-“

“You don’t know him the way I do. Ollie… He’ll never stop. Ever. He hates to be wrong and hates to lose even more. It always has to be his way. He won’t ever stop until he gets what he wants. And what he wants is me.” 

Dinah resisted the urge to rub Roy’s back in sympathy. “Roy, there are no wrong answers here, but do you trust Bruce to protect you?”

“…I want to. I did, before- before Ollie attacked me that night. I trusted that if anyone could protect me from Oliver than he could. But then Ollie attacked me on the rooftop and… If Batman can’t keep me safe, then who could?”

“It’s been almost 5 months since that attack. You went out on patrol a couple of weeks ago.”

Roy nodded. “First time since the attack.”  
“Was it scary going out as Arsenal again?”

“Yeah. I could only go out for a couple of hours before I begged Batman to let me go home.” 

“But you still went. After months of refusing to patrol because you thought it wasn’t safe, you decided it was safe enough to resume vigilante work.” 

“Yeah, so?”

“So, that’s proof right there that it’s possible for everything to feel better. That you can feel safe again with Batman there to keep you safe.” 

“When? I really want to feel safe, Dinah. I felt safe before the attack for the first time in years.” And then Oliver had ruined everything. 

“Someday. Hopefully, soon.” 

“Why can’t it be tomorrow?”

Dinah chuckled a little bit. “Unfortunately it doesn’t work like that.”

“I really wish it did.”

“That would be nice.” Dinah watched Roy for a few seconds, trying to gauge his anxiety level. “Are you ready to go back inside now?”

Roy hesitated, then nodded. “We have to get this over with, don’t we?”

“We can stop for the night and push it back to next week if you want to.”

“No. No, I don’t want to drag this out over two weeks.” With a sigh, Roy pushed himself to his feet. “I want to get this over with. All of it. I- I want to move on.” 

Dinah nodded as she stood as well. “Let’s go then.” She led Roy back into the room where Bruce was waiting for them. 

As soon as they walked in, he mentally evaluated Roy, searching for any outward signs of distress. While the teen did look a little pale, he didn’t appear to be overly anxious. ‘I need to make sure I’m containing my own emotions,’ he thought as Roy sat down again. ‘Roy’s ability to pick up on my emotions is…uncanny. He’ll feed off any negative ones I have, so I need to be as unemotional about this as possible.’ Luckily he had lots of practice. Of course, that particular skill had always been difficult as far as Roy was concerned. “Are you ready to continue?” he asked the teen gently. 

“I am,” Roy nodded as he picked up his papers again. This was the story about the time Oliver had been pissed off about a business deal falling through, and then spending the whole weekend tormenting Roy over it. 

Hearing it again gave Bruce the feeling of guilt he felt any time he thought about this incident. He kept the guilt off his facial features though. When Roy finished, he looked at Bruce, who swallowed. For a moment, he almost considered telling Roy the whole story, the part he didn’t know. How he had been the person who’d made Oliver angry and been the cause of Roy’s pain that weekend. Seeing Roy so open and vulnerable about his trauma right now, Bruce couldn’t shake the feeling that he just deserved to know. ‘But…if I do, what if he stops trust me? He’s slowly coming around again and Dinah keeps insisting he needs to trust me to heal. That he needs to feel I can protect him. If I tell him the truth…what if he stops trusting me again. What if it affects his ability to move on?’ The last thing Bruce wanted was to impede Roy’s progress. But he also couldn’t shake the feeling that Roy deserved to know. So, Bruce took a deep breath before he spoke. “Roy, there’s…something you should know. 

“I was the person doing business with Oliver. I- I was frustrated and wanted to get at him somehow. And if I couldn’t touch him as Green Arrow, I thought that going after him as Oliver Queen was the next best thing. So, I designed that whole deal to make him lose a lot of money.” Bruce swallowed, watching Roy’s face as he slowly processed what he said. “But I swear, I had no idea he would do what he did. If I’d had even a hunch that he’d hurt you like that, I never would’ve done it. I swear.” 

Roy was quiet for a few moments as he mulled over this for a moment in his head. “You… You were the one who made Oliver so mad that weekend?”

“I was.” 

“And…you didn’t know he’d…hurt me the way he did?”

“I swear, I didn’t.” 

Slowly, Roy nodded. “Ok.”

Bruce frowned a little bit. “Ok? You’re not…mad at me?” He didn’t blame Bruce? 

“No, I’m not. You- You didn’t know that would happen. You didn’t even really know what was going on back then anyways. And only…the only person responsible for what Ollie did is him.” Roy glanced at Dinah, who gave him an encouraging nod. “So, it wasn’t your fault. It’s ok, Bruce.” 

A weight lifted off Bruce’s chest. He almost felt guilty, because he was supposed to be there to help Roy, but here Roy was making him feel better instead. “Thank you, Roy.” 

Dinah almost smiled at the exchange. ‘Maybe this will encourage Bruce to have more of these conversations,’ she thought. ‘It’ll help Roy connect to Bruce. It would be good for both of them.’ 

Roy moved on to the next story. Now the trauma narratives entered the time when he was meeting sporadically with Robin. His voice shook when he recounted the night he’d refused to kill someone and the severe beating he’d received after it. Olive burning his hand. Being forced to kill that man in the alley in the night he left Star. Then, finally, the attack on the rooftop several months prior. “-and even though I’m afraid that Oliver will come after me again, that he’ll try to hurt me…I know that I have people to protect me. I know the League will do everything they can. And I know Batman will do everything he can. I’m still scared and it’s still really hard to feel like Oliver will never hurt me again. But…I want to believe that. And I’m trying to believe it. I’m doing my best.” 

For a few seconds, Bruce didn’t say anything. “I’m…proud of you for doing your best,” he told Roy. “I know things have been difficult for the last few months, but you've been doing your best to get through it. I’m monitoring Oliver. He won’t be able to come near you again without bringing down the wrath of the whole League.” 

“…Thanks, Bruce.” Roy looked at Dinah. “Are we done?”

“We are,” Dinah nodded. “Well done, both of you. I’ll see you next week, Roy.”

“See you next week.” Roy rearranged his papers while Batman pulled his cowl back on, then followed him out of the room. It was quiet for a few seconds as they walked toward the zeta. “Batman… Thanks, for…coming.”

“Of course,” Batman replied quietly. Anything if it helped Roy. 

“And…I meant what I said at the end. I know, objectively, that you’ll do everything to protect me, and I want to believe you, but…it’s just so hard. I really am trying though-“ Roy stopped when Batman placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. 

“I know you’re trying. And you’ll get there. Everything will be ok. You have nothing but time.”

Roy nodded. “Right.” 

Batman let him go through the zeta tube first, then followed him back to the Bat-mobile. ‘I’ll do everything I can to keep you safe, Roy,’ he thought as he drove them home. ‘I’ll do absolutely everything I can. I swear it.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this will be the last one-shot posted for the collection because...
> 
> The third story in this series will be posted on Sunday. I wanted to have it ready by Christmas, but then I had a lot going on at school and I've been on vacation since the 26th and just got home. 
> 
> I'll see you guys on Sunday!


End file.
